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[For Imriel] Imma meet you halfway
It's quiet.
Kate's alone for what feels like the first time since she found Lilo in the jungle. No kid - not sticky, not scared, not sweet, not sweaty, not screaming, not singing (Elvis, always Elvis), not staring at the ocean, not stirring a jar of voodoo dolls, not stomping, not slamming doors, not saying Kate's mean and fat and has stupid hair because there's no peanut butter or sugar cereal or pizza or she doesn't want to go to bed or she doesn't understand why she can't run off and see all of her new friends or go swimming or surfing by herself Nani let me I'm not Nani no you're not Nani's much better than you I know I hate you!
It's quiet and Kate is collapsed face down on the bed half watching some Australian teen dance drama but mostly missing Declan and trying not to. When she's not wondering how she went from slut to single foster mother of a six-year-old in three hours and thinking it's really different, leaving the kids at the Children's Office or leaving William with Sam and Daniel. Different. Exhausting. She'd kill for enough energy to get up and go for a run or a swim to loosen the mass of knots in her shoulders from picking Lilo up whenever she needs to be held and from worrying the rest of the time that she's screwing up. But that would take work.
Maybe she'll just lie here in a jersey and boy shorts with her hair and arm dangling off the bed and pray there's no reason to move enough to work up a sweat.
[ooc: she lives in New Atlantis, which he'd definitely no and the door's probably half open for air flow and in case the dog decides to come home.]
Kate's alone for what feels like the first time since she found Lilo in the jungle. No kid - not sticky, not scared, not sweet, not sweaty, not screaming, not singing (Elvis, always Elvis), not staring at the ocean, not stirring a jar of voodoo dolls, not stomping, not slamming doors, not saying Kate's mean and fat and has stupid hair because there's no peanut butter or sugar cereal or pizza or she doesn't want to go to bed or she doesn't understand why she can't run off and see all of her new friends or go swimming or surfing by herself Nani let me I'm not Nani no you're not Nani's much better than you I know I hate you!
It's quiet and Kate is collapsed face down on the bed half watching some Australian teen dance drama but mostly missing Declan and trying not to. When she's not wondering how she went from slut to single foster mother of a six-year-old in three hours and thinking it's really different, leaving the kids at the Children's Office or leaving William with Sam and Daniel. Different. Exhausting. She'd kill for enough energy to get up and go for a run or a swim to loosen the mass of knots in her shoulders from picking Lilo up whenever she needs to be held and from worrying the rest of the time that she's screwing up. But that would take work.
Maybe she'll just lie here in a jersey and boy shorts with her hair and arm dangling off the bed and pray there's no reason to move enough to work up a sweat.
[ooc: she lives in New Atlantis, which he'd definitely no and the door's probably half open for air flow and in case the dog decides to come home.]
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"I believe I do," I continued. "My past is part of who I am, and I cannot get away from it, but I can come to terms with it."
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"Yeah." She locks her gaze to his and sits up. Abruptly, she's so aware of him again. So conscious of him in her space. Her teeth snag in her bottom lip and then she shrugs. "Your past. Kushiel's blood. Elua's. All of it. But you can." Her touch is tentative again when she slides her fingers down the inside of his bicep. "I guess what I'm really saying is I'm not scared of you." If you want, I'll help.
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They're almost right back where they were when he hauled her up against him to pour the water over her head. Almost. She knows now. It can't happen like that. Not now. So she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.
"Third rule of dating. Kissing. There should be lots of kissing."
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A smile touched my lips. "I believe that is a rule I might be able to comply with," I replied, reaching a hand up to curl around the side of her neck before I leaned in and kissed her, slow and gentle, completely unlike the way it had been at the stable.
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It's still immediate, her yielding under his mouth, her fingers curling into his shoulder and around his side. Goddamn he rings her bells. But it's more than that and Kate knows it. He kisses like he cares about her. Like he wants her. Like he's trusting her with this huge, terrifying thing. It's that, more than anything, that keeps her from pulling him down over her. He has to be able to trust her.
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It was true I wanted more from her, much more. But I was at war with myself, and I needs must becalm the turmoil within me before I could make another attempt. So while the desire was there, and I was acutely aware of it, I did not try for anything further than this - a kiss, deep but slow, my fingers threaded into Kate's hair.
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Slow, she reminds herself. She's not going to die from taking this slow. But she might die from blunt force trauma if she falls off the bed from being lightheaded.
"C'mere, Imri," she murmurs against his mouth and draws him down to the bed. Beside her, not over her. Slow. Besides, she could get used to being kissed like this.
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"Damn, Gorgeous." Christ. She's breathless and nervy and it's possible she's never felt anything better than yards of warm skin pressed against hers. Except maybe the steel of his shoulder and bicep under her hand when she tells him, "You've got rule number 3 wired."