Padraic was utterly silent, his jaw tense and his eyes fixed Kitty’s as he hovered like an ominous, shadowy specter in her doorway. She hadn’t come in to work today, nor had she warned him of her absence—that was very unlike her. Paying an unannounced visit to her flat—which essentially amounted to breaking and entering—would yield the reason why; as she sat at her vanity, staring at him through the mirror, he could see a spray of red across her cheek and a stain on her blouse. Whether the blood was hers or not, he wasn’t able to deduce from this angle. But the immediate swell of anger—and concern, perhaps?—caused his ears to burn crimson and his hazel eyes to flash like molten gold. “Kitty,” his voice was low, a feral growl lacing his words, “should I be concerned if that blood belongs to you…or someone else?”
She should have known he’d be stopping by -- especially with this little stint of absence. Padraic was a man of order. He loathed when others were late. And Kitty was wildly aware of this. Which was why she usually showed up EARLY whenever Padraic needed her or, if she were unavailable for any unforeseen reason, she’d always inform him ahead of time. Consistency. Loyalty. It was only part of what made her so good at her job and it had wiggled her into his good graces. But, today TRUANCY was in the cards, whether they liked it or not.
Normally, Kitty was so thorough-- no one followed her home from the club. Like a cat in the dark, she slipped out of sight and into her car and took her way home but, this time, she had unexpected company. He had been a regular, one of the lower tiered patrons and, as often was the case, Kitty had caught his eye. The fellow had managed to follow the dancer home for several nights without her catching on, keeping hidden from the chanteuse. Casing the place, looking to ensure she would be alone when he decided to act. And, lucky for HIM, she had been. When she had gotten home from work the night prior, he had been waiting for her. The moment she had opened the door, he had rushed her, knocking the woman to the ground and yanking her into the flat behind him. It had taken all she had to force the much larger man off of her and she certainly had the marks to prove it. If she hadn’t prepared for a situation like this already, Kitty was sure she’d be in an even worse state. STILL , that did not mean she was pleased with the outcome. Or with the battered and now cold corpse that was stashed in her bathroom.
At first, Kitty tries to avoid Padraic’s eyes, directing her gaze down to a random place upon her vanity instead. But she forces a smile that was none too believable, the strain on her expression more than obvious. And if that were not a give away, the shake of her hands was an crystal clear indicator. Still, the brunette weakly beams, crossing her arms defensively as she turns in her seat to face him anyway. Once he saw her head on, he would see some dark bruising along her left cheek and eye, the skin tender and even cut in a few places. Kitty’s usual air of coolness is nonexistent, however she does not seem to be AWARE of that fact. She stays seated, knowing at least that if she were to stand, she’d probably fall right back down again.
❛ Oh. I-- I wasn’t expecting you, darling. And look at me-- I’m--I’m a proper mess, aren’t I? ❜ A weak chuckle gives as she lifts a hand, shielding her injured section of her face from view-- like she was embarrassed. ❛ Give me-- Ah. Give me a moment, would you? ❜
