Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow (
ikissdhimbck) wrote2012-12-25 04:02 am
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OOM: ... let your heart be light ...
Christmas Eve.
The bar proper is full of holiday cheer. Decorations of all sorts, presents under the tree, the hum of laughter and song. It's inescapable.
Some rooms even have wreaths on their doors.
Not Room #100.
The bar proper is full of holiday cheer. Decorations of all sorts, presents under the tree, the hum of laughter and song. It's inescapable.
Some rooms even have wreaths on their doors.
Not Room #100.
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Tommy had been keeping an eye out for Kate downstairs. But after two cups of coffee, he leaves the Oreos and cigarettes with Bar and decides to check if she's up in her room.
She might've been looking for him earlier. They could've just missed each other by minutes.
And she said her door would always be open to him.
He knocks, three soft raps.
"Kate?"
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"Who is it?"
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Who is it? Really? She can't tell?
"Tommy. You okay?"
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"M'fine. S'just late."
Go away.
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It confuses him.
"Heh. That never stopped you before, honey."
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Fabric shuffles.
There's a click, like that of a light switch.
(Had she been sitting in the dark?)
"I'm not in the mood tonight, Tommy. Couldja go away?"
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She'd never flat-out told him to go away.
"Okay, well, we don't hafta-- Can we just-- y'know, talk or something? Seriously, are you okay?"
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Pause.
"It's Christmas Eve, Tommy. Don't y'have someplace t'be?"
Her voice is a little rough.
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"Yeah, actually," he replies, his own voice a bit snappish. "I'm working tonight. I'm in the middle of a shift and I just got back from a call. I just wanted to see you."
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"Well, I don't think that's a good idea."
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"And why not?"
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She finally snaps, emotion twisting the weariness in her voice.
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Exasperation and frustration are getting the better of him.
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Her voice catches.
It's quiet for a while.
(There's a sound like a breath being taken from behind her hands.)
"Jus' go away, Tommy."
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"I ain't gonna go away until you either tell me what's wrong or you open this goddamn door."
He grabs the knob and rattles it.
"C'mon!"
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This a blatant denial of the truth.
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This isn't what she wanted.
The lock turns.
Inside, the room is dark and unadorned. The bed is unmade. The curtains drawn. Kate tightens her silk robe, crossing her arms. Her hair is braided for bed and pulled over her shoulder, eyes dark and puffy.
She looks at him and then looks away, nothing to say.
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"Jeezus, honey, are you sick? Why didn't you say so?"
He comes closer, reaches out to touch her face.
The smell of acrid soot is still strong on him.
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She flinches away from his touch.
"Y'said you'd go away if I opened the door, so are y'satisfied?"
She really didn't want him to see her.
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She'd never--
Why--
What--
There are so many things she's doing and saying that she'd never done and said before and it's confusing the hell out of him.
He just wanted to talk. To hold her. Kiss her. Be with someone in this whole goddamned universe who cares.
"No. I'm not."
It's the flinch that gets to him more than anything. It reminds him of the first time he tried to kiss her. It reminds him that he did something wrong.
"C'mon, honey, just talk to me."
He reaches for her elbow this time.
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She wipes at her eyes, pulling her arm away from his grasp.
God, he smells like smoke. Like smoke, and leather, and aftershave.
"I don't wanna see you right now, Tommy. All right? I don't wanna see you."
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I don't wanna see you.
It would take the force of a blunt instrument to get something through Tommy's thick skull. She can't get more blunt than that.
He still doesn't understand.
He thinks he didn't do anything wrong. But eventually, they all find ways to blame him. it would've come to this anyway.
"Fine."
The word is bitter. He backs away, hands held up. He won't touch her again.
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Composing herself.
"I'm upset. I don't wanna talk, I don't wanna whore myself out, I jus' want you t'leave."
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"Whore yourself out? Seriously? Is that what you think--? That I--"
He steps away even further. He gets the message now.
"Y'know what? Fine. Fine. Sue me for giving a shit, but hey, guess what, honey, I don't give a shit anymore. I probably shouldn't have given a shit to begin with, but too bad I'm just a huge goddamn idiot. So, whatever. You win. Happy now? Jeezus Christ. I'll see ya 'round, honey -- or maybe I won't."
And he finally turns to leave.
Angry. Confused.
So confused.
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That he — ? No. No, not him.
But she doesn't get the chance to say so. He's turning away. It's exactly what she wanted. That he chooses to leave her for good as well — well.
It's probably for the best.
She purses her lips, nodding — though he won't be able to see her — tamping down the tears that flood her eyes unbidden.
And closes the door.
Locking it.