Post by Shadowcat on Dec 17, 2006 1:06:35 GMT -5
Kitty had finally emerged from her room to sit, brooding, on the edge of the little decorative pond outside the main gardens. Ducks swam happily by. She threw a rock into the water with less than her usual pep. It might have even been called misery.
E-mails bounced, phones were out of service. She had no address, no contact names, no idea where he was. Not even a country. Not even a continent. Not even a hemisphere.
She'd screwed up. She'd screwed up a lot.
Though it was probably her overdeveloped guilt complex talking, she couldn't help but wonder how much she'd done with her stupid little hissy fit in the restaurant. He'd been there to apologize, to make things right, and she'd... said a lot of things. A lot of things she didn't mean. She'd intentionally hurt him just because he'd hurt her and she knew she could do it.
The stupid stunt with the candle. How soap opera. If she'd meant it, she might feel a little better about it, but she didn't. You never forgot your first flame, wasn't that what they said?
She prodded listlessly at the mud at the edge of the pond with a stick, tracing a little unhappy face and then drawing a little demon surrounded in flames, poking it with a stick.
That was a little weird, she thought, even for her. She needed to stop moping. She stepped on the picture, rubbing her foot in and obliterating the image in the ridges on the bottom of her tennis shoe, then scraped it off on the grass as she began to walk back to the Institute.
She needed to cheer up, at least outwardly, for everyone else's sake. She shouldn't forget about what she'd done, certainly; she had to keep feeling bad about that. It was unforgivable. But twisting in gehenna lost all its meaning if other people were around to help you out of your funks. It was the loneliness that really twisted the knife, after all.
Put a smile on your face and keep your back straight, babe, and it'll all go away if you think it hard enough....
She threw her shoulders back, wearing a weak smile which strengthened after some effort. If there was something about life you couldn't learn from pointe, she definitely didn't know about it.
E-mails bounced, phones were out of service. She had no address, no contact names, no idea where he was. Not even a country. Not even a continent. Not even a hemisphere.
She'd screwed up. She'd screwed up a lot.
Though it was probably her overdeveloped guilt complex talking, she couldn't help but wonder how much she'd done with her stupid little hissy fit in the restaurant. He'd been there to apologize, to make things right, and she'd... said a lot of things. A lot of things she didn't mean. She'd intentionally hurt him just because he'd hurt her and she knew she could do it.
The stupid stunt with the candle. How soap opera. If she'd meant it, she might feel a little better about it, but she didn't. You never forgot your first flame, wasn't that what they said?
She prodded listlessly at the mud at the edge of the pond with a stick, tracing a little unhappy face and then drawing a little demon surrounded in flames, poking it with a stick.
That was a little weird, she thought, even for her. She needed to stop moping. She stepped on the picture, rubbing her foot in and obliterating the image in the ridges on the bottom of her tennis shoe, then scraped it off on the grass as she began to walk back to the Institute.
She needed to cheer up, at least outwardly, for everyone else's sake. She shouldn't forget about what she'd done, certainly; she had to keep feeling bad about that. It was unforgivable. But twisting in gehenna lost all its meaning if other people were around to help you out of your funks. It was the loneliness that really twisted the knife, after all.
Put a smile on your face and keep your back straight, babe, and it'll all go away if you think it hard enough....
She threw her shoulders back, wearing a weak smile which strengthened after some effort. If there was something about life you couldn't learn from pointe, she definitely didn't know about it.
