Katherine-Annette in a way. I hope this isn't completely hole-filled. I totally enjoyed writing this, and I hope you will enjoy reading this. Please Review.
Disclaimer: I do not own Cruel Intentions.
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Curiouser and curiouser.
Little people walk along
Little people, running strong
Loss of control; fake, your gone.
'Hello.'
The blonde smiled; she'd never met this certain young woman before, and she appeared very kind.
The girl's brown hair swirled around her shoulders as she turned toward her. She grinned.
'Hello, I'm Kathryn, and you are?'
'Annette. Pleased to meet you.'
Kathryn motioned gracefully towards the settee that sat empty behind them. 'Would you care to join me?'
--
'—Yes, and then we spoke for the longest time! It was really nice to meet someone that I could so easily relate to! I was starting to doubt the diversity of New York socialites.'
Sebastian was intrigued. Who could this woman be that Annette was so entranced with? If she existed, then he must have heard of her. Chaste women were rare, and he'd played with the last of the Upper East side's what seemed like years ago.
'You know? She hates those tweed things Chanel makes as much as I do—'
He hated to interrupt.
'Just a second Annette, did you happen to catch her name in the midst of all of your conversation?'
She smiled at him, pulling her hands from his. Sunlight filtered through the dainty summer curtains.
'Her name was Kathryn, Kathryn Mertuil.'
--
It was late August.
On a street corner, looking more than a bit out of place was a girl; or a woman, a lady most indefinitely (depending how you judge). Shiny chocolate hair smoothed over her shoulders and hazel eyes matched an evergreen dress matched with a wide brimmed sunhat.
One of those cumbersome almost autumn winds blew across the road and the thin little darling slightly wished she'd have had the mind to bring a light jacket
Her eyes were trained on a window; if one looked closely you could see people within the encasing room. A man, and a young woman. Fighting, she supposed. The man was moving his hands uncharacteristically (she knew), as if trying desperately to prove a point.
The blonde woman shook her head vehemently, refusing to whatever he had just said.
Their street spectator smiled.
--
'Oooh! I feel just horrible for misleading you, I'm just, so used to it. It's naturally unnatural, it, oh, there's no excuse!' Kathryn paused, sniffling through her hysterics. 'We're such good friends, and I don't want to lose that!'
Annette felt terrible. This poor girl, so drawn and obsessed with the judgments people made, and had devoted her life to giving the illusion of perfection. 'Come on, don't worry about how we differ, you never really wanted to turn out like this anyway; we'll move slowly. I'm here to help as I can!' She put her first two fingers under the crying brunette's chin and lifted her face.
Kathryn let a few more tears fall down her face.
'Oh, thank you, thank you so much! I feel as if I've finally found a true comrade. But now I feel so selfish, Sebastian needs your helps maybe as much as I do?'
The blonde spoke softly. 'Not at the moment.'
Annette was still holding her chin.
Evian blue eyes met the muddy green of Kathryn's and pupils locked.
Full glossed lips met the light pink of Annette's and mouths touched.
Softly.
Warmth and wetness, comfort beyond forgiving friendship.
It was paradise.
--
Sebastian paced. He couldn't understand, Annette was his, wasn't that true? He'd almost loved her, in a non physical sense.
But the feelings of compassion now lay dormant, and confusion reigned supreme.
Sebastian sat. Order was a laughable thing, nothing seemed to organize, and it was frustrating. His mind, his home; where was he home?
--
Could this work for her? All she thinks now disgust at herself. Oooh little bits of fun, like little bits of blood. Like little bits of love, and that everything is redness. She wants to be better than you at something because you do everything.
Stop it, make it stop, the pain, she rocked back hands still nestled below her breasts. She hated him, loathed him, wanted in some way to have his existence ended. He ruined everything.
Sweet skeletons in the closet. Little brittle bones and she shakes, pushes her dark hair off her shoulders.
Her cross is empty and her bed is made of needles.
You breathe, you breathe, you breathe. The air goes in, but it doesn't. Mouth open chest heaving; you can't get enough. You're starving.
--
Annette sat confused.
She loved him. But then,
then, Kathryn.
--
Edited 2.26.2007 This is not my best story (my best are pure fiction) but it holds much sentimental value for me. I reread it lovingly, and hope you do the same. I know the pairing is not my favourite, and probably not yours as well, but it's not so much about the characters as it is the picture of it all.