The Effect you Have on Me. || Katie & Michael || 05.31.24
Katie tried not to make a habit out of worrying about other people. That just wasn't something she did. She survived purely on self-preservation, spite, and nicotine, but the pit in her stomach that hadn't disappeared since that night in Denver said otherwise.
She was worried about Michael.
She didn't know who that man was to him, but he obviously was 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 to him.
It was dark when Katie and Michael had exited the ramen shop. They'd spent more time than they realized laughing and talking about all sorts of things as they shared a meal. The walk back to her car was supposed to have been uneventful, but when that man stepped out from the shadows and Michael stopped in his tracks, Katie had no idea what was going to happen. She hadn't stopped to think when that man had forcefully grabbed Michael, spewing those vile and provocative words while he flinched back in fear. She'd just reacted, throwing herself between them and using her momentum to knock the stranger over. From there, it had been a blur. Her vision was red with anger, and by the time she came back to, her knife was bloody in her fist, and the man was slumped over on the pavement. She hadn't waited to see if he was breathing. She grabbed Michael's hand and pulled him into as much of a sprint as they could manage back to her car. The ride to South Park was spent in silence, and Michael got out of the car at his house without as much as a goodbye.
That was four days ago, and it had been radio silence until she'd finally reached out. Katie wasn't even sure if Michael would want to see her again after her violent outburst, but his response to her text was a weight off her shoulders. He'd asked her to meet at her spot at the pond. Their spot.
Scrambling off her bed, she sprinted to her closet and pawed through her clothes to attempt to find something to wear. She would never admit to him how much she cared about what she looked like around him, but she wanted to look nice. Anything to get the image of her blood-soaked shirt out of his head. Katie finally settled on a simple black long sleeve shirt and leggings; something that said she didn't care what she looked like, while still flattering her figure. She ran a quick brush through her platinum hair, careful not to snag the silver jewelry that glittered in the many holes in her ears.
With one last look in the mirror, she turned on her heel and stopped at the door of her apartment to slip on her platform converse. If she wore her signature Demonias she'd surely break an ankle on the trek out to the pond. The drive to the pond was a short one, so Katie hadn't even bothered to turn the radio on. The only music to pass the time was the pounding of her heart. She wasn't sure what he'd say when she got there. Maybe he didn't want to see her again, and it was just easier to tell her in person. She hoped to Hell that that wasn't the case.
Katie tried not to make a habit out of worrying about other people. That didn't mean it didn't happen.
She slammed the door to her car a little harder than she tried to, the sound echoing across the nearly empty lot. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and silently hoped this went well, before setting off to her spot. Michael had beaten her there. He was sitting on the bench, his back to her.
She cleared her throat as she came up to the bench and sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder. "Hi." Her voice wavered a little when she spoke from disuse.
@vitriolicbiblioclast
Their trip to Denver was a disaster.
It had started out well. They talked, laughed, got along in the type of peace that you just didn't want to end. Michael had felt comfortable around Katie, like they were always meant to be friends. He didn't open up to people as easily as others did, so the simple fact that someone like her could worm her way under his skin was... impressive, he had to admit. Especially given the fact that he couldn't stand her group of people when they were kids.
She was funny. She was smart. She was sarcastic. And in Denver, Michael realized she was a lot deeper in his skin as he had originally thought.
The moment he saw him, Michael had froze. It had been several years since his devil blue eyes met his own, but that didn't mean that Michael never thought about them to this day. The goth thought that, years later, he would be able to stand his ground and give that piece of shit what he deserved. But he didn't. As soon as the older man got in his face, Michael felt like he was a teenager again - defenseless. Scared.
But Katie wasn't having any of that. As small as she was compared to both of the men, she had managed to down him with a fight that Michael had been replaying in his head over and over again for the past four days. The protective look in her eyes, along with the blood on her clothes. Her hand in his while she pulled him from the sinking ground that threatened to swallow him whole.
Katie's voice had pierced through the buzz of anxiety that riddled throughout him, and Michael felt like he was hearing music for the first time.
He was already at the pond when he invited her to meet him. After nearly a week, he was ready to talk to her. At first, it was the embarrassment of the situation that was preventing him from sending the first message. But at the root of that embarrassment was a desire to touch her hand again, like a flower in the center of his chest that had just started to bloom.
He didn't know exactly what it was that he was feeling. But he knew his feelings for her had changed. And it only became more obvious to him when she sat down, her shoulder brushing against his.
It's funny how a simple touch could spread so much warmth throughout his body. Michael didn't look at her, but the hands that he had folded in his lap tightened against each other.
"Hi." He said back in a voice that wasn't much better than hers. "I'm glad you came."
The sun was setting, making the pond reflect beautifully with orange and red. Michael watched the small ripples, most likely caused by the wildlife that lived within. To feel like he was doing something other than sitting like a fool, he reached into his the pocket in front of his white button up, his jacket abandoned across the back of the bench (the one she had fixed for him), and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Michael placed one in his mouth and lit it before offering the pack and lighter to Katie.
He inhaled and blew the smoke out through the corner of his mouth as he finally looked at her. His simplistic mind immediately acknowledged how beautiful she was under this lighting. "How have you been?"
His voice. Just his voice was enough to send the butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy. She took the pack from him with a grateful look, thankful she had something to do with her hands. She pulled a cigarette from the pack and stuck it between her lips, her burgundy lipstick staining the filter. She set the pack down in her lap to give her a free hand to light the cigarette while cupping her other hand around it to keep the flame from extinguishing, and handed the pack back, their fingers brushing in the exchange.
Blowing out smoke into the evening air, she turned to look at Michael. The evening sun cast a golden glow across his face, and Katie would be lying if she said he didn't look simply ethereal. No wonder they called it the golden hour.
It took a moment for her to catch the breath he stole from her and find her voice. "I'm okay. I think I should be the one asking you that question, though." She responded, taking another drag off her cigarette. Katie hadn't realized she was holding tension until she went to cross her legs, so she made a conscious effort to relax a little. It was just Michael.
Sure, it was also just the man she literally stabbed someone for like a psycho. The man whose being had infected her like a plague, invading her life in a way that she hoped would never end. Her hands shook a little, and she hoped he wouldn't notice her nervousness.
Michael kind of hated how every moment Katie made caught his attention. He needed to calm down. He leaned back on the bench and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankle slowly, careful of the cane that leaned against the seat next to him. He took a moment to smoke before answering, looking back at the pond.
"I've seen better days, I guess." That wasn't even half of it. The second he was alone that day, he collapsed. And he didn't get back up for an unknown amount of time. "He was... an old acquaintance," he wasn't ready to fully talk about exactly what he was or what he did, "a fucking asshole. I wish I had stabbed him instead."
He hoped Katie didn't noticed how frozen he was when they were approached, but he knew better than to believe that. There was only one reason why she kept asking him if he was okay, after all. Normally, the persistent asking would get on his nerves. But, this time, he just felt warm. "Thanks. By the way. For that. And for getting me out of there."
Confident, Michael bumped her with his shoulder, a small smile on his lips as he ashed his cigarette. He looked at her again and his smile fell, seeing how her hands shook. "You cold?" He asked, more curious than worried. He didn't think it was that cold outside, but he grabbed his coat regardless and offered it to her. "Here, put it on. It's just going to get colder when the sun goes down"
Katie nodded at his explanation of who the man was and his gratitude. She had the inkling there was much more than Michael was letting on, but she knew not to push. He'd tell her if and when he was ready to.
"Of course," She spoke softly, ashing her cigarette. "I would do it all over again. The way he spoke to you, I-" She cut off, her free hand squeezed tightly into a fist. She thumped it into her thigh angrily, her face contorted into a mask of anger. "He seemed like a real fucking scumbag." She finished after a moment with a sigh, releasing her fist and slouching into herself.
After a few moments, he nudged her with his shoulder, causing her to let out a small laugh. She wouldn't tell him she wasn't cold when Michael offered her his coat. She was greedy for him, her cigarette perched between her lips as she slipped her arms through the sleeves and wrapped it around herself, inhaling the smell of him.
Taking the cigarette from her lips to ash it, she blew out the smoke and thanked him for the coat. "I feel stupid for saying this," she grumbled, "but I kind of missed hanging out with you." She didn't wait for him to respond before continuing. "And it's probably stupid that I can't stop thinking about beating the shit out of that guy for hurting you, and it's stupid that I can't stop thinking about you either." She flicked the cigarette onto the floor and put it out with her shoe, twisting it a couple times.
"Is that stupid?"
When she took the jacket, Michael let his arm fall behind her on the back of the bench comfortably. He kept his eyes on her as she talked, putting the cigarette to his lips every so often to inhale. Nicotine always calmed his nerves, and he was feeling a strange amount of them the more she said about stupidity. He wanted to laugh at her question, but that was stupid, but he decided to be a bit nicer tonight.
For her benefit, or because he just couldn't, was the real question.
Michael followed her in getting rid of his own cigarette, the now extinguished smoke traveling from the disregarded bud looking strangely artistic with the sunset. He didn't answer at first, trying to form his words. He had to approach this cautiously. Michael was never one to hide his attraction to someone once he had realized it, but Katie was different. If he came on too strong, or just made it seem like he was only interested in one thing from her, he might run her off. And that thought hurt him worse than a rejection. He can live with rejection, but he doesn't think he'd be able to live without Katie at least being his friend.
"No." He finally decided, a shake of his head causing his curls to flop from one side of his face to the other. "I get it. I feel the same way. And I'm not stupid."
He didn't want to look at her, didn't want to lose his nerve before he finished talking. "Listen," he licked his lips, voice low. Like he was afraid someone would over hear them. "I think you're... I mean, we like the same music, and you piss me off but you let me piss you off right back. I don't think I've laughed that much in one day since... ever, really." He thought back to the dinner they had in Denver, the smallest smile forming on his lips. "Normally, this is where any other guy would say that you're great, or beautiful, or whatever. But I'm just not one of those guys. I don't want to give you one worded compliments, it just doesn't feel like I'm saying enough. So, shut up while I try to explain it."
He uncrossed his ankles just to switch which foot was supporting the over, fidgeting with one of the rings on the hand that wasn't behind Katie with his thumb. "I never expect to, but I always have a nice time when I'm with you. I just feel so relaxed. Like I could listen to you talk for hours. And it's not even like I try to, or you try to, it's just... natural. Easy. I mean, for fuck's sake, I want you to come to Korea with me next year because I think it'd be more fun with you there. And I don't ever want to bring anyone with me besides Firkle, Pete, or Henrietta. I kind of feel like shit for not knowing you sooner, but at the same time I feel like we've known each other forever with how well we clicked. The teasing or rumors or whatever about us didn't even get to me. They were annoying as fuck, but... I guess, somehow, I knew that they weren't completely untrue."
He paused, pondering his next words. He risked a glance at Katie out of the corner of his eye before turning back to the pond immediately after. He didn't even get a good look at her, but it was enough to know she was still listening. "Somewhere down the line, my feelings for you changed into something beyond platonic. But it wasn't until Denver that I realized it. I just thought, if I could have more days with you like that, I'd be... happy, I guess. I've been hiding for the last couple of days because of the embarrassment of what happened, but also because I didn't understand what happened to me. But, I do now. And I didn't want to hide it from you. So... do what you want with that information. If you don't feel the same, then I'd rather stay your friend then anything else."
Katie sat still as she listened to Michael talk, the low volume in which he spoke easily carried across the evening air. As he went on, her pale cheeks deepened pink with her blush. She had no idea he'd felt like this about her. She'd continuously told herself since they started hanging out that he wasn't into her and she was just doomed to be friends with someone she was head over heels for. She was acutely aware of his arm behind her, draped across the bench, and she wanted to lean back into it. She didn't, though, scared that if she moved he'd stop his admission.
She hadn't looked at him the entire time, instead looking down at the multitude of rings that glittered on her fingers. If she looked up, Michael would see how red her pale face was, and Katie wasn't sure she wanted him to see her look like a tomato.
When he finished talking, she tore her eyes from her hands to look up at him. He was staring ahead at the pond as the sun set low on the horizon, taking the last dregs of sunlight with it. The crickets chirping was the only sound between them for a few moments, and she couldn't take it.
"I want all of the happy days with you, Michael." She finally spoke in a voice just above a whisper. "And the shitty ones, too. I have come to the realization that my life is better with you in it, if you want to keep being in it that is." She hugged his coat around her a little tighter, shrugging her shoulders. With an awkward smile, she nudged her shoulder into his like he did earlier.
"And it's definitely stupid how badly I want to kiss your stupid face right now." She added, sheepishly.
