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