So I opened the "Flash Fiction at 15,000 Feet" document with the full intention of working from the prompts that had remained unexplored last time... but the early Alexander/Katrina/Stephen triangle has had me by the tail for the past few months, and skimming this
sparked the following.
I have left a chunk out of it. Because alcohol-assisted nonconsensual sex is creepy to read, and alcohol-assisted nonconsensual empath
sex is creepier still, and you don't want that in your head; I'm glad I've scraped it out of mine and onto the "page". So. There will be a fade to black, dear reader, and a brief intermission, and then the sun will dawn and, with it, the rest of this snippet.----------------------------------------------------
“Come on, Kit. You’re done now.”
She squinted up in the direction of the voice. “Fuck you.”
He bowed with a small flourish, then took her elbow. “Come along, Kit. Let’s get you home.”
“No. I’m drinking.”
His voice was gentle, then. And that was likely why she let him guide her from the club back to her apartment. They didn’t speak; she stayed focused on a) walking and b) not crying. Will not let Alexander have the satisfaction.
He took the key from her fumbling hand and unlocked her door, pulled her inside… ~intermission~
She was dimly aware of the knocking on the door, and slightly more aware of the man beside her getting up to answer it. She stretched, wincing as she felt the soreness. What did we do last night?
Voices. Alexander and Stephen.Oh shit.
She scrambled for a shirt, hauled it on, and ran for the door. Far too late, of course. Stephen in his boxers and arrogant smile, Alexander in a button-down shirt, silver striped with gold, his House colors; formal black slacks. A duffel bag.
Alexander had just a moment
, a flicker of heartsickness across his face. And Katrina felt the click as his shields sealed her out, sealed everyone out. That ice, now steeled against her.I will not cry.
She approached him with as much dignity as she could manage. ”Alexander. I… didn’t think you’d come.”
“I can see that,” he replied quietly, inclining his head.
“I thought last night-“
“You left, Katrina. Without – without a true goodbye.”
“I thought – “ She sagged against the doorframe, wobbly limbs and mussed hair. “I don’t know what I thought. I don’t know what to think.”
She felt an arm wrap around her waist from behind. Stephen. Pulling her tight against him. Away from Alexander.
Alexander looked down at her, jaw tight. “Goodbye, Katrina.”( Collapse )