KATJA DE LA CRUZ
Dragon
Posts: 53
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Kit Clarke
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Nov 16, 2024 19:00:56 GMT
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Post by KATJA DE LA CRUZ on Feb 24, 2023 23:05:36 GMT
Head lolling against the window, Katja watched the river roll by under the bridge through slitted lids. Little flashes of moonlight like silvered fish riding the waves. Almost home. Finally. The last hour she’d feigned sleep, not caring if Bernardo knew or not. He’d still been talking about his trip home for the holidays, the Goddess – the Goddess, the Goddess - over and over until it had been pretend to sleep long enough for hiu to get the message and give up or open the door and simply through herself out into the wind.
Still tempting. The car rattled off of Wickery Bridge, the bags in the trunk shifting loudly enough that she finally gave up the ruse. She sniffed in a breath, let it out in a yawn that ended up being real – after a week hopping in and out of shitty motels with Bernardo, tracking the Chilean vampire who had slaughtered a village the Goddess protected (with about the same amount of success as she had the village where her lover and child lived), she was tired. Wanting nothing more than to crawl into Kit’s bed in the place that felt like home, Katja glanced past the hulking figure behind the wheel to try and catch a glimpse of the town.
”How was the nap?” Bernardo asked dryly.
She didn’t bother meeting his eye as she looking back, sticking to the road ahead of them, the white lines that flickered down its centre, vanishing beneath the car, ticking off the miles left to Frank’s place. ”Not long enough,” she drawled, drawing a laugh out of him that had her frowning. ”I want to sleep in my own bed.” That stopped the laugh. He knew what her bed meant and that wasn’t the apartment he spent more time in than she did. The disapproval started to fill the car like the lingering greasy smell of the burgers they’d picked up for lunch. He’d have stopped to eat them in the restaurant then, but she’d been the one pushing to get a move on. Sitting in the diner would have delayed them to the point where another night spent in a motel almost felt worth it.
”You never used to be so precious about it.”
Katja hummed, crossed her arms over her chest, her foot bouncing against the floor. ”Things change. Take a left here...” He’d looked like he was about to shoot through the junction, heading for the square rather than the road that would curve around to where Frank’s house squatted on that border between the town proper and where the trees started to grow thick between the houses. He’d have tried to blame it on driving on autopilot while they spoke, but she knew his games, and his shared dislike of the men who had got her in the sort of trouble that changed those things. The Goddess had probably spent the whole of Christmas whispering in his ear, prompting him to get her away from the influence of men of violence, like Frank and Kit were anything like the hunters who had come to the village to shatter her peace.
Her hands ran up and down her bare arms, a huff of amusement rolling out of her as Bernardo leaned forward to flip on the heater. This wasn’t a chill from the nippy night air, she could’ve walked through these woods naked as a jay bird, as Copacati would have done, and not felt a bit of it. Katja gritted her teeth, her fingers flexing. The hands that had found their way over her again, tracing each curve, each new scar, the ones that had held Bo so carefully, they weren’t ones capable of hurting her. If they had drawn blood before then it had been in protection of others, to save people. Copacati had never known that sort of altruism, wouldn’t have recognised it if it had stood right there in front of her. Which was never going to happen. This was not the Goddess’ life, it was the one she was making for herself instead.
For a second it looked like he would ignore her and run straight through the junction, but Bernardo turned. His expression grew more puckered as the house came into sight, as if it was all crumpling down to the thin line of his mouth. ”We need to talk tomorrow, to go through what happened. Make a report for the Goddess.”
The sleep ruse would not work again now, but she could still roll from the car. She didn’t need the clothes packed in the bag in the trunk, there were things at the house, enough to keep her going if it had to. Any bruises from the fall, however carefully she took it, would heal almost instantly. It would cut this off.
Bernardo slowed the car as the faint lights emerged beyond the line of trees that skirted Frank’s property. The porch light on downstairs, one winking out in Frank’s room as the car coasted to a stop. Something softer glowed in Kit’s room, a lamp maybe, or the light in the hallway shining through the cracked door. He’d be home by now, would have slipped into the bed behind her, drawing her into him in sleep or not. It was all she’d wanted as she’d tossed and turned on those lumpy motel room mattresses, trying to drown out the sound of Bernardo’s snoring audible through the wall.
Unbuckling the seatbelt, Katja scrambled out. She leaned back in for just a second, thumping his brawny shoulder with her knuckles just the once. ”Just sign my name to it, hmm?” Bernardo had been there to see her incinerate the vampire with her touch as the woman he’d been feeding from scrambled away from the two of them, screaming until he’d gotten her out of there.
He tried to call her back, but she was already throwing open the trunk. Her bag thumped heavy against her ribs as she closed it again. She didn’t bother to wave him off, just trotted up onto the porch with the crunch of the gravel beneath his tires in her ears. It had been too long, the hunt numbing. She wanted to shower it off, to remove the remembered the scent of the vampire’s flesh searing from her, making sure not to carry it back to him. Not tonight. In the morning she’d drag Kit there, to wash it all away. Tonight...
Boots and her bag dumped just inside the door. Slow footsteps padding up the stairs and along the hallway, the itch already falling away, irritation sloughed off with the distance between her and Copacati (or her puppet Bernardo) growing. By the time she reached the doorway of his room, she was done. ”Sorry, it’s late …" Katja murmured, her voice soft to avoid Frank waking up, the door pushed open quietly. If she’d had her way, it would have been yesterday, or four days ago when it had felt like they were never going to find the pajero who had left women and children dead. It wouldn’t have been at all, she didn’t need Bernardo as her distraction anymore. Her gaze flicked towards the bed as went to step inside, she needed him.
And she didn't have him. The sound should have hit her first, the woman's breathless gasp turning into a groan as he flexed his hips. She knew what that felt like, the pleasure that rang through you like a bell had been struck, echoes rolling and rolling until it happened again. The air was heady with the scent of alcohol and excitement and ,,, Her legs came up, wrapping around him, hands fisting in that tumble of his hair. Heat rushed under her own skin, but it wasn't pleasure. Bile rushed up Katja's throat as the woman's eyes opened and she gasped again, slapping at Kit's shoulder. "...too late," she shot bitterly at the pair of them. Sure she would be sick, feeling the scar at her throat catch with every swallow, Katja turned, slamming the door hard enough behind her that it just bounced open again.
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KIT CLARKE
Werewolf
Posts: 136
Age:
33
Occupation:
Manager at The Ruby Slipper
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Katja De La Cruz
Played by:
Julia
"You make my cold heart warm with a touch."
Last seen Nov 11, 2024 19:01:45 GMT
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Post by KIT CLARKE on Apr 6, 2023 21:54:28 GMT
 ━ nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky ━
The darkness didn’t help, either. It’d always been there; it wasn’t like Katja alone could chase away the shadows of his fragmented post-war mind, but it was always better to have someone by his side. He needed her when he woke up from another nightmare or saw his team's dead and disfigured bodies lying in his room.
When Kit reached for her, though, she wasn’t there. The space on his bed that had quickly become Katja’s side was empty, and while the common sense part of his brain knew she would come back, the other part worried and doubted. He just wasn’t sure━could never be sure. Not of anything.
Not when he saw Dawson’s half-charred face━like a comic book villain━staring up at him, his face twisted in pain and anger. He died by the time Kit had pulled him from the wreckage, and he’d never looked at him in any way except fear in those last few moments, but here he was now, shouting at Kit for not doing more. For not saving him, all of them.
You went for your buddies first. You didn’t care about the rest of us.
Dawson’s burnt flesh ripped open and oozed as he spoke, though Kit imagined the pain couldn’t be worse than anything else he was feeling right now. “That ain’t true. I got━I went━” He couldn’t find the words to defend himself, but it didn’t matter. Dawson was dying, the last sentiments on his lips ones of disdain. Kit tried to explain; he wasn’t close with Frank before all this. He didn’t find him and Murphy first because they were friends, they were brothers just the same as he and Dawson were. Nobody mattered more. Kit tried to save everybody like… like some fucked up, werewolf version of Forrest Gump. Except, y’know, hopefully a little less special.
It started the second night he was alone. At the club, one of the other bartenders served a drink that came with two flaming shots. It wasn’t extremely popular because of the price, but Kit had made a few of his own for customers. It wasn’t anything new.
But he remembered stumbling away from it and raising his arm instinctively, almost as if the tiny twin flames would do anything to him. He took a break, caught his breath, downed two glasses of water, and finished his shift without a hitch.
It got bad around four a.m. That’s when he saw Dawson, burned up like he’d been touched by a hundred of those flaming shot glasses.
Kit went through his next shift with shaking hands, which only stilled when he accepted the offer of a drink from one of the customers. Part of a bachelorette party, and more than happy to flirt with their bartender. His next memory was coming to consciousness in the women’s washroom, sliding his nose over the toilet paper dispenser and giving the Bride-To-Be a night to remember against the bathroom stall. Her sash, proudly proclaiming this fact, kept rubbing against his abdomen in a way that made the silky material feel like sandpaper.
That was his break. He returned to running the bar shortly after, recalling pieces of his night until the bar closed and everyone emptied out. He could close that place wearing a blindfold with one hand tied around his back; that wasn’t the issue.
The issue was how he was gonna function for the next few days. Or at family dinner, when he had to stumble in and sit there knowing he was the stray they kept around out of pity. He cringed throughout Freyja saying grace, and he nearly burst into tears when he caught Hazel’s eye across the table. How was he gonna be able to protect her━how would he be anything for her if he was a fucking mess all the time? If he could only save two people out of his entire team?
After dinner, Freyja tried to pass Bo to him. He couldn’t imagine holding something so tiny and fragile (well, he was a hefty little baby now, but still)━not when he was falling apart more and more with each day that passed. He excused himself instead, taking the stairs two at a time up to his room, into the bathroom, rifling through the cupboard to find the box he hadn’t used in weeks. He needed it now, though. He wouldn’t survive without them.
The next few days were a blur under painkillers and alcohol.
The routine was the same; returning to it after his sabbatical was almost a comfort. Wake up in the afternoon, self-medicate, shower (alone or otherwise), eat (if only to put off a bad stomach later on), go to work, drink, find someone to take home, sleep around 6 a.m. or whenever she was too worn out. He wasn’t sure what day it was, nor did he know when Katja would be home; he only assumed it would be during the day. Perhaps he should’ve been more careful.
Kit didn’t remember her name. There wasn’t anything significant about her━no bachelorette party, no birthday, nothing. Just a girl looking for a fun night out in a bar. Kit decided to give her that and more━taking her home and keeping her up all night. She didn’t seem shy as they flirted throughout the night, but the minute they were in his bedroom, she suddenly turned soft and breathless, a little awkward and unsure of herself. Kit worked hard to open her up.
He shoulda noticed the footsteps up the stairs, but Kit was focused on numbing his brain with a woman and various substances. It just… maybe wasn’t the right woman. At first, he thought Katja’s voice was a corner of his mind; his guilty conscience nagging, poking and prodding, reminding him what an asshole he was for this. But he hadn’t promised her anything.
In his mind, at least right now, that absolved him of blame.
The chick━he couldn’t remember her name, if he’d ever learned it━started smacking him on the shoulder, and it took him a second to even feel it. He heard Katja’s voice again, low and irritated, and by the time he turned his head, he was watching her leave, the door bouncing back from the frame. “Shiiit,” Kit groaned, and he considered finishing anyway━wasn’t like it’d change anythin’ now━before the bar chick was slipping away and off the bed. Fuck.
Pushing on his mattress, Kit landed with his feet on the floor and found a pair of boxers to quickly slip on, rushing after Katja. Down the stairs and nearly to the door before he caught her, his fingers around her bicep, tugging her to a halt, and turning her back to face him.
He didn’t have anything to say. It was a sobering moment, but his blue eyes were glazed over, unfocused, and unwilling to accept blame. Kit opened his mouth, then puffed out a breath, his gaze slowly sliding to her face for the few moments he could handle it. It didn’t matter that they’d never officially had a conversation about it━he was happy to have her around now; he’d thought about having kids with her. And he was losing it all because he couldn’t spend a week without her. Or, rather, he couldn’t spend a week in his own company.
“I missed ya.” Kit said, and then realized how stupid it was, and puffed out another breath. “I know you’re pissed. But… I didn’t know when you’d be back, and I had my space back t’myself for a bit, y’know? So…” He was gonna ask how her trip was, but that felt like an even dumber move. Instead, he went with worse, and added a goofy smile for the cherry on top, “I mean… you really gonna tell me ya didn’t bang Bernardo that whole time?”
KATJA DE LA CRUZ |  |
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KATJA DE LA CRUZ
Dragon
Posts: 53
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Kit Clarke
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Nov 16, 2024 19:00:56 GMT
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Post by KATJA DE LA CRUZ on Apr 15, 2023 17:00:37 GMT
Heat shimmered at the edges of her vision, but the rest of her was frozen. The cold had spilled up in her stomach, from that deep well of what had been warm in her chest, as the woman’s expression had gone from hazy with pleasure (oh, she knew what it felt like when it did, every muscle melting under his touch) to panicked. She hadn’t known that up until a week ago another had been in that bed every night. Or that eighteen months ago the woman now stumbling from the room wouldn’t have blinked at someone else taking her spot for the night. They hadn’t been like that.
There would be no looking back and pinpointing the exact moment it had all started to shift from not blinking when one of them was gone for a few days to this. Had something shifted in her chest the morning that Kace had cut himself in the kitchen and she’d held onto Kit as his brain had tried to shatter again? Had it all changed the day before Christmas when she’d turned down that trip home to stay with them? Something had definitely bubbled out of that spring in her heart as she’d watched Kit holding the sleeping child. They hadn’t said the words, stamped some sort of claim on each other that was as indelible as the scar that provided a line of fire across a throat that had clamped shut.
Katja kissed a breath out through that constriction, tears that felt like they could steam from her eyes obstructing her vision as she rushed down the stairs. He hadn’t even looked up at the sound of her voice. Kit had been lost in the woman, continuing to chase his pleasure. How long would it be before the slaps registered?
Not long.
She wouldn’t have been able to hear him stumble from the bed over the rush of her own blood in her ears. It was thundering, sounding like her wings on the air as she shifted and took off. Outside the house she could do that. Get away from this town. Away from him, from Bernardo, from the humiliation that had left her shivering the same way she had when Copacati had pulled her from that hole in the ground. Her fingers were reaching for the lock she’d thrown on the door when she’d walked in, not intending to leave until he did tomorrow evening, keeping him there in the bed she’d craved since they’d rolled out of town in the first place.
Fingers closed around her arm, pulling her to a stop before she could get there. He turned her around, her lips pressing together hard as she looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at her, not to start with. The blue eyes that could shine with humour, or the intelligence most didn’t credit him for when they saw the long hair and that face behind the bar at the club, were as hazy as the woman’s had been. Not there, seeing her try and clamp down on that spreading cold beneath her skin so she could burn the numbness away and give him a taste of the heat that could raze the entire place to the ground.
Finally Kit’s eyes met hers and Katja was blinking away the tears. One word, was it all would’ve taken to douse it, but no, he couldn’t even manage that. The laughter spilt bitterly from Katja’s mouth as he told her he missed her. The same, every minute that I was gone. Words that he didn’t deserve to hear – the truth to negate the lie that was on his lips now. ”Pissed?” she shot back. Not hurt. He saw all of this as anger as though the only thing she possibly could’ve felt was jealousy. If that had been all the woman wouldn’t have still been upstairs, she’d have been bouncing down every one of these stairs on her ass.
Shaking her head, Katja closed her hand around his wrist, trying to peel his grip off of her. Her fingertips dug into the underside, growing hot before she forced herself not to let all that hurt spill out in a wave of fire that might do real damage, even if he could heal just about everything. ”You didn’t know when I’d be back so you thought you’d just fill my spot ‘til I was? I’ll thank her later for keeping it warm for me.” For showing her that she was just another caught in that revolving door instead of the one who’d thought she’d stopped it. That he wanted to stop it.
Katja finally pulled free and could’ve just backed up, but he had to open his mouth again, negating his argument that he had his own space back again with a slap of jealousy she could almost taste in her mouth. She stared at that goofy smile, the one that usually would’ve had her smiling back, her own expression hardening into a sneer that belied the tears burning in her eyes. ”So I lied to you. It was all about heading out of town to steam up some motel room? Him getting me on my back, because this wasn’t enough for me. Screw the vampire, let those women and children keep dying so I could get my kicks instead. Who’s the one who’s jealous now?”
Planting her hand in the centre of his chest, feeling her stomach twist at the damp feel of his bare skin against hers, Katja shoved him back. ”Mana haykaqpas. Payqa manan hayk'aqpas chhaynataqa llamiykuwanchu. Tukuy ima munasqayqa qanmi karqa.” With everything she had left after the hunt had hollowed her out. If he’d been able to keep it in his shorts, she could’ve been up there now, erasing the memory of that thing and all it had done with his mouth. Now she was stepping back, not wanting him to reach for her again. ”Was this revenge?” she asked, her words seeming to catch on her scar again. She didn’t want to know, not really. It wouldn’t be any sort of comfort when she walked back into the apartment with Bernardo’s smug smile adding to the sting of what had been torn open inside of her.
Tagged: KIT CLARKE * Word Count: 1042 Translation: Never. He's never touched me that way. All I wanted was you. |
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KIT CLARKE
Werewolf
Posts: 136
Age:
33
Occupation:
Manager at The Ruby Slipper
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Katja De La Cruz
Played by:
Julia
"You make my cold heart warm with a touch."
Last seen Nov 11, 2024 19:01:45 GMT
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Post by KIT CLARKE on May 11, 2023 19:46:16 GMT
━ nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky ━
Some part of him felt bad, and not just the part that was sorry he got caught.
His hand remained on her arm, not releasing Katja even when she tried to peel his fingers away. He didn’t register her touch at first, and then he didn’t want it to stop. Like maybe if he held her steady, then she wouldn’t leave.
“Nah, that ain’t…” He puffed, frustrated that he couldn’t figure out how to explain himself, and that she didn’t understand him like she usually did. “Didn’t want you to walk in, that’d be shitty.” He wasn’t trying to hide it from her, either, but… okay, maybe he figured he could do all this shit while Katja was gone and she’d never have to know. And maybe he’d be okay again once she got back.
Her warmth was gone from his palm, and Kit frowned at the loss, his hand dropping heavily to his thigh. Again, she wasn’t really gettin’ what he was sayin’, and Kit wondered if it was his fault or if she was just getting outta control━y’know, like how women always do. Flying off the handle ‘cause they got their feelings hurt. Why couldn’t she see this for what it was? Not that big of a deal━not for two people who weren’t actually in a relationship, anyway.
“I didn’t say that.” Kit laughed lightly, distractedly, like he wasn’t sure what was so funny. “Just figured, y’know, while you guys were goin’ out to do that shit, y’know… lotta nights out there together, shit happens, right? Wouldn’t-a held it against ya.” He was trying to be nice. Yeah, sure, maybe he would’ve felt a little weird… but they never had to talk about it. Why did that make him jealous? Kit’s brows screwed together as she shoved him, and he stumbled back a few steps, staying where she’d put him for a long moment. “I never said shit about bein’ jealous.”
He raised a hand and wiped some of the sweat off his forehead with the back of it, then tucked a few stray hairs behind his ear. “IIIIIIII… don’t know what the fuck you’re sayin’.” His smile was still there, though it only touched the corner of his lips now, crooked as he stared at her. Whatever it was, she didn’t sound happy.
“No, it━” Kit sighed and reached for her again, trying to get closer, his hands wrapping around her biceps. He didn’t wanna crowd or corner her, but Katja could defend herself━he was entirely sure of that fact. If she didn’t want him close, she wouldn’t let him━except, he hoped she didn’t reduce him to a pile of ash. “It ain’t that serious, Katja. You were gone, so I brought someone home… why’s that so crazy? We ain’t together. Even if we were, you were gone for… fuckin’ forever.” Kit chuckled, though the laugh had an edge of pain, like his feelings about being left alone were oozing out. “C’mon, don’t be mad. Just… I’ll get ‘er to go; then you can come up to bed and chill. Or stay at Bernardo’s tonight, whatever.”
Now that she was back, though, Kit didn’t want to let her go. But clearly he’d fucked up, ‘cause she was pissed, and there was no way in hell she was stayin’ with him tonight.
KATJA DE LA CRUZ | |
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KATJA DE LA CRUZ
Dragon
Posts: 53
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Kit Clarke
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Nov 16, 2024 19:00:56 GMT
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Post by KATJA DE LA CRUZ on May 12, 2023 20:11:23 GMT
He hadn’t wanted her to walk in on him screwing someone else because it would be shitty?
The laugh was more sob than anything else as it ripped out of her. If he’d been wasted – a real effort when your body burned through whatever you imbibed, but possible – she'd have maybe understood how. She wasn’t blind or stupid, she’d seen the way women had looked at him at the bar, knowing exactly what shot through them at one of those smiles. That’d been her, swayed by the face, the body, the charm, able to slip away with no complaints at the end of the night. Had been her. Hazy or not, he’d had the clarity to realise that he hadn’t wanted his hook ups to cross over. Didn’t want it to be shitty for her, or shitty for him when he had to deal with her instead of finishing upstairs, spending the rest of the night wrapped around some stranger who wouldn’t get upset when she got kicked out in the morning.
Please Ama hina. She wouldn’t beg out loud for him to let her go, but the constriction around her chest tightened as he continued to hold her right there to hear the excuses pour from his lips instead of the ’I missed you’ she’d wanted to hear when she pushed open his door. ”Guess what …" Katja managed hoarsely, digging her thumb in harder. ”You were right, it was shitty.” It had shitty and embarrassing and devastating, all that she’d been fighting to protect from her own mother torn up in front of her eyes.
There should’ve been a relief when she broke free, but it was like his touch had seared itself into her skin, not the other way around. The smile that’d been there a moment before fell away, his frown cutting in like her anger had done what her grief (why it did it feel like something had been lost, torn clear out of her chest?) had failed to. Katja puffed out a breath, her brows rising as he laughed again. Goddess, she wanted lash out, to slap at him until he realised that the ripples of what he’d done tonight were threatening to drown her and what she believed had been between them.
”What then?” she asked, knowing that there wasn't a single word from him that could take back the accusation he’d thrown at her. ”You picturing us bunking down together? Thinking I got so lonely for some company without you there that anybody else would do?” Oh yeah, there was the reason why she felt hollowed out enough that the ice could fill her where so much had been before. He wouldn’t have held it against her, because she was nothing more than someone else to fill his bed. Someone usually convenient. ”If you’re not, then why bring it up, hmm? Seems like tit-for-tit to me. She goes and sleeps with someone else, so now I’ve got the chance to too.” Katja bounced her hand off her chest, surprised it didn’t ring out hollow, before she shoved at him, the fuck you for making me feel like this covered over by the truth he wouldn’t understand a word of, even if she’d spat it at him in English.
Katja shook her head, warding off the shitty attempt at getting her to translate. He didn’t deserve to know how badly she’d wanted to just slip back into his bed, to have his arms around her, his lips, his touch erasing the scars left on her by what she’d had to do. ”Mana yachayta munankichu. Don’t.” A low sound crawled up her throat, an unspoken plea. She knew it wouldn’t take much to crumble and she didn’t want to.
This time it wasn’t an attempt to pry his hands from her, it was a slow sustained pull against his grip that stopped in an instant. No matter who he’d been when she’d seen him again, she’d never seen a cruelty to him. He was a man who’d given everything to save the men he served with, a man who had been broken when the scars left by their loss had taken so much more from him. He wasn’t the monster Copacati had tried to convince her that the men in uniforms always were. Now it was a different Kit she saw overlaid over the rumpled, sweating figure in front of her. Ain’t together. Gone for fuckin’ forever. Accusations hitting like blows, shattering the bedrock she’d tried to rebuild herself on here. ”My fault again. Gone too long, spending too much time with him, that means no harm in bringing someone else home, screwing her in the bed I was just keeping warm before.” It wasn’t that serious, couldn’t have been if a week’s celibacy was too much.
Strain edged his laughter, the same sort she’d heard before. Then it had been a warning sign, a reason to slip close to try and seal some of the wounds in him that still bled with her hands, with her heart, with her love. If he thought that she’d have done that for Bernardo, for any pretty gringo who wanted to fuck her, then he was right, it hadn’t been that serious, for both of them at least. Now it was her turn to laugh, the tears starting to roll down her cheeks as she tried to twist out of his grip. ”Chill in the warm spot she left? Maybe in the wet spot, if you even bothered to finish up. I don’t think so.” Bernardo’s. For tonight. The very thing she hadn’t wanted to do, because being back in Mystic Falls meant being home. Stupidly she’d thought maybe it was that for both of them, but she was just one of those foolish little girls, playing house, forcing their dolls together, smooshing up their lives because there was always a happy ever after to that.
Her eyes met his again, the tears burning harder at the realisation of what a fool she’d been. Katja sucked in a breath to try and steady herself when she wanted to fall apart, her hands coming up to scrub the tears from her face. ”I won’t be mad. Just take your hands off of me. Go back to her. She’s obviously not expecting anything serious. Let me go.” Forget it ever happened, that there’d ever been a future whispered about a dozen yards away, dreams wrapping over him, her and Bo like a blanket when she’d made the choice to stay with him instead of running right into Bernardo’s arms.
Tagged: KIT CLARKE * Word Count: 1090 Translation: You don't want to know. |
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KIT CLARKE
Werewolf
Posts: 136
Age:
33
Occupation:
Manager at The Ruby Slipper
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Katja De La Cruz
Played by:
Julia
"You make my cold heart warm with a touch."
Last seen Nov 11, 2024 19:01:45 GMT
|
Post by KIT CLARKE on Jun 6, 2023 18:26:10 GMT
━ nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky ━
She spoke in Quecha again, then added a “don’t” like that would stop him or make him understand. For a second, he wondered if it was the translation, but then realized it couldn’t be. She’d said too many words. He wished it wasn’t a dead fuckin’ language and that it was one of the many he’d learned, but that would mean her position in their team would’ve been irrelevant, and that he never would’ve met her. And, despite all this, Kit would never give that up.
But, well, yeah, it was kinda her fault. If she hadn’t left, none of this would’ve happened. Kit wouldn’t have felt so lonely that he had to dip into his old stash or find some company. He clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes, sighing like she was just irritating him by airing her grievances. He shouldn’t have done it, but it was hard to process all the shit she was throwing at him, and he didn’t want to take responsibility. She hurt him by leaving. That’s all he knew… and that she was probably banging Bernardo.
He reached out to touch her anyway, to hold her steady and keep her from leaving, like that would convince her to stay. It wasn’t as if he’d offered up something totally irresistible. “Uh… nah, you walked in, remember? Kind of a mood-killer.” Kit chuckled in a dopey way like he couldn’t figure out why she would say something like that. Obviously she interrupted, so obviously he hadn’t finished.
A sober Kit might’ve felt something when she looked up at him. He would’ve seen her glassy eyes and softened, maybe melted to his knees and begged for her forgiveness. But if he was sober, they wouldn’t have been in this mess in the first place. It wasn’t really Katja’s actions that’d caused it, and he’d realize that eventually.
“Are you expectin’ somethin’ serious?” He asked, totally ignoring her request to be let go, and for Kit to leave her here. The girl upstairs had never meant much to him, but now her purpose was completely nulled. Katja was his focus, but for all the wrong reasons. “‘Course you are. Chicks always are.” His grandma woulda smacked him upside the head for that one. At least he didn’t say bitches, though, ‘cause he almost did━his self-preservation worked even through the haze.
His fingers flexed on her biceps, but Kit tried not to squeeze as he pulled her in again, like he could wrestle her into showing him love again. “Jus’ stay, I want you t’stay now… fuck, you already…” He trailed off and swallowed hard, irritated that she wanted to abandon him again, but knowing he couldn’t say anything else to upset her. “... Just stay. Don’t go back to him… don’t want ya to,” He dipped his head down in a desperate attempt to nose closer, to kiss her, even if that clearly wasn’t what she wanted.
KATJA DE LA CRUZ | |
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KATJA DE LA CRUZ
Dragon
Posts: 53
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Kit Clarke
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Nov 16, 2024 19:00:56 GMT
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Post by KATJA DE LA CRUZ on Jun 18, 2023 19:47:41 GMT
”Ima?” Tit-f0r-what? Katja stared at him, dark brows drawing together as she puffed out a breath. What was he even saying?
Confusion had underscored the hurt from the moment she’d started to make sense of the tableau spread out on his bed. Limbs clutching, pleasure written in the line of them, in the sounds that were echoing in her ears so loudly she wanted to tear them out. He wouldn’t let her though, instead of just letting her go Kit was holding her here, compounding the ache in her chest with every accusation to fall from lips that had held such tenderness and promise before. They might as well have been razor tipped now for all the damage they were doing as she tried to draw away from them.
A cluck of his tongue, a roll of eyes just hazy enough to soften the edge of it all. It shouldn’t have done, it shouldn’t have mattered, because there had still been a choice. Take the opportunity given by the spilling of some innocent’s blood to have hers draining from her skin, leaving her pale and cold and crazed like the pale shiny surface of a broken vase, or hold on for just a week to cover the first cracks working through her when she returned – as she thought they had done for each for all of these months. The heat stirred inside of her for just a second, flaring beneath her skin in a way she could have driven out, but Katja didn’t think she had the strength to do it.
She almost let it happen as he took hold of her, but it shrank down inside of her again, damped by the tears that she couldn’t have willed away if she tried. Katja huffed out a breath, pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth to fight back the sob that wanted to tear through her. ”Oh I’m sure you could get it goin’ again,” she said bitterly. ”If she’s not just waiting for me to leave to bolt from here.” Like she was going to. Leave him to sit there chuckling over it all, like none of it mattered a bit. The girl obviously hadn’t known that the empty bed was just a temporary arrangement. She’d seen what she had that first time across the camp. Pretty blue eyes, a smile that you could feel right down in the pit of your stomach, all promise and if you gave him a few minutes to really put it to work, a hell of a lot of follow through. He’d been free to walk away then, but it had felt like their second go around had been different.
Remember. The word pinballed through her gut, left her feeling sick as her feelings, what she had thought was theirs were thrown back in her face, like clothes tossed back at her. A riddance without a single qualm about it. Had she been so wrong? Seen something there in the little domestic situation that had built between the two of them that had never been there? ”Chicks?” Katja croaked. ”Oh, I shouldn’t have expected anything from you. Manan pantalonniykipi unaytachu waqaychayta atinki seriopaq. Imapas ruwanqa, ¿aw? Pipas - munasqaykita chaskispaykiqa.” The rapid fire Quechua was spat like bullets again, tearing through her heart on their way towards him, although as unfeeling as he was, she doubted any would do any damage.
Every breath that she dragged in and out hurt now. The pressure squeezing lower until red dots began to dance in her vision. Katja had started to try and twist away from him, her arms limp now as though the lack of tension in them would have his touch melting away. ”I already what?” she asked hoarsely, stopping to stare at him. It was too late, if he wanted her to stay he could’ve held on for one more night. Had a week been too much to ask?
Back to him. The possessiveness in those words were a second sucker punch, almost dropping her to her knees. His head was down, the lips she’d been desperate to feel on hers, driving the images of the broken bodies and dead children from her head, nuzzling closer. Turn her head. That was all she had to do, ignore the grinding pieces of her heart in her chest and the words that had torn right through her and just let him…
For just a second her lips were on his and then Katja sank her teeth into his lower lip viciously. She reared back, seeing him through tear blurred vision. Oh, she could see him clearly enough to find her target. Her hand cracking across his cheek as those first sob wracked her. ”You don’t get it both ways,” she said through gritted teeth. ”You don’t want anything more than a naked body in your arms, arí?” And that was waiting for him upstairs, probably far more amenable to those lies on his lips and the lump of stone in his chest. ”That’s not me.” Because she’d fallen in love with him and she wouldn’t push those shattered pieces of her heart aside just to feel his hands on her again. Shoving back from him, she twisted away to the door, fumbling for the lock now that the blinding tears were sweeping in like the summer rains, washing away everything in their path.
Tagged: KIT CLARKE (Finish with yours?) * Word Count: 899 Translation: What? / You can't keep it in your pants long enough for serious. Anything will do, yes? Anybody - as long as you get what you want. / Yes? |
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KIT CLARKE
Werewolf
Posts: 136
Age:
33
Occupation:
Manager at The Ruby Slipper
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Katja De La Cruz
Played by:
Julia
"You make my cold heart warm with a touch."
Last seen Nov 11, 2024 19:01:45 GMT
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Post by KIT CLARKE on Jul 3, 2023 16:34:57 GMT
━ nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky ━
“That ain’t what I━Katja,” He strained, unsure how he could make it better. He couldn’t take it back. Chicks━why the fuck did he think that was any better than “bitches?” The words, spit in another language, did what he supposed they were meant to. They hurt, even if he couldn’t understand them. They hurt because she hurt; Katja was hurting, and he’d done it to her. Let his pain spread out and capture her in his never-ending tornado of fuck-ups. He wasn’t driving a knife into her chest with images of the enemy covering her face, but he might as well have been. And, just like Kace, he couldn’t stop.
“You already left me,” Kit groaned like she was stabbing him now. It felt like it. He’d sat around for a week with this open fucking wound, letting it tear open over every bump and line, each thing he swallowed, watching it bleed and bubble until it was infected. Katja was sticking her fingers in it now, clawing through like some fucking monster.
But he was making her do it. He didn’t know how to make it better. He didn’t know how to stop the ache that ran through both of them, but he wanted her touch━more than just holding her arms and stopping her from wiggling out of them. Kit pushed closer, desperately searching for her lips, trapping her against the door.
For a second, she kissed him. For a second, he felt like everything was better, like he could fix the impossible. She’d let him, too━her lips proved that.
And then he felt the pain zap like lightning from his lower lip, leaving him releasing a groan of a different kind. Kit squeezed her arms without thinking, though the smack across his face left him with no choice but to drop his hold.
Through his tears, he saw her━his vision was clear enough to notice them in her eyes, too, the sound of her sob filtering in some time along with the one her hand made. “Katja━” He puffed, though Kit knew he wasn’t gonna find the right words. He thought about reaching for her again, but she was shoving him, giving herself space to squeeze through the door. “No, I didn’t━fuck,” He reached for her again and nearly lost his hand in the door. “Fuck!” Kit shouted, slamming his fist on it once it was closed. He could’ve rushed out and gone after her, tackled her onto the grass or something just to keep her, but it wouldn’t have helped. He’d end up a fucking burn victim for it.
Somehow, he’d made it back upstairs. The woman was only putting her clothes on now━like she was just sitting there the whole time━probably fucking listening, and looked at him with a frown. “Was that your girlfriend?” She asked.
“Fuck off.” Kit grumbled, sitting heavily on the edge of his bed. He started rummaging through the drawer in his side table.
“Are… are you okay?” She asked gently, and Kit snapped back at her,
“Get the fuck out!” As he finally found the baggie he was looking for.
“You’re such a fucking asshole.” She hissed, putting on the rest of her clothing. “No wonder she left you.”
He thought about throwing something after her as she rushed through his bedroom door, but Kit wasn’t that out of it. He knew she didn’t matter enough. That she didn’t deserve it.
Katja didn’t, either.
KATJA DE LA CRUZ | zee end |
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