Though she wraps herself in her own arms to protect herself, he keeps close but lets his hands slip from her. He listens quietly, letting her tell her story in full. And as she reveals details she'd never told him before, with emotions she'd never trusted to show him before, it's as if he's seeing her in a whole different way. Not better, not worse-- but a little more whole, more of who she really is inside.
(to thine own self be true)
And then the anger rises again. Anger at what they did to Sam, and to her. Anger that she had to go through such pain.
stop bein' a bitch
makeup sex
on top'a me
Anger at Voodoo.
Tommy flashes back to that Christmas Eve and the way Kate wouldn't let him into her room. And when he did force his way in, she pulled away from him. Wouldn't let him touch her. And he comes to the sickening realization-- she was still feeling the sheriff's hands on her. She'd gotten that fucking letter, and she was going through all that awful shit again.
God he feels like a complete jackass now.
Jaw clenched, he turns his head and glares out across the field toward the path that would lead past the stables and back to the bar.
Fuck you, Voodoo. Fuck you.
But instead of heading off on a rampage, he turns back to Kate, eyes hard but pained and apologetic, sorry that he can't change the past for her. Sorry that he can't take the pain away.
"Jeezus Christ, honey..."
Slowly, with just a bit of hesitation, he reaches up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. If he could promise her one thing, he would never, ever do anything that would make her fear his touch.
no subject
(to thine own self be true)
And then the anger rises again. Anger at what they did to Sam, and to her. Anger that she had to go through such pain.
stop bein' a bitch
makeup sex
on top'a me
Anger at Voodoo.
Tommy flashes back to that Christmas Eve and the way Kate wouldn't let him into her room. And when he did force his way in, she pulled away from him. Wouldn't let him touch her. And he comes to the sickening realization-- she was still feeling the sheriff's hands on her. She'd gotten that fucking letter, and she was going through all that awful shit again.
God he feels like a complete jackass now.
Jaw clenched, he turns his head and glares out across the field toward the path that would lead past the stables and back to the bar.
Fuck you, Voodoo. Fuck you.
But instead of heading off on a rampage, he turns back to Kate, eyes hard but pained and apologetic, sorry that he can't change the past for her. Sorry that he can't take the pain away.
"Jeezus Christ, honey..."
Slowly, with just a bit of hesitation, he reaches up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. If he could promise her one thing, he would never, ever do anything that would make her fear his touch.