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bourbonboredom · 6 years ago

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A Reason To Believe Chapter 6

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 4,339

Warnings: brief N$FW moment, brief mention of violence

When I'm with you

It doesn't matter where we are

Or what we're doing

I'm with you, that's all that matters

(x)

Flip was surprised when he ran his tongue over his lip and it brushed his mustache. He was trying to get a stray crumb but instead was met with the taste of pussy. Elle's pussy. Guess he missed a spot when washing his face that morning. He fought back a grunt as the tartness melted on his tongue, a reminder of his night. And the night before that. And the night before that.

After he'd spent that first night over in Elle's apartment, he was there almost every night for the next few weeks. The only time he elected to stay at his own place was when his undercover case had him up at weird hours. He'd go back to his lonely apartment, sad to sleep in an empty bed. He used to purposefully wake up before his date, prying himself from their bed and leaving before they even noticed.

He was a big guy and would prefer to have the bed to himself. But the way Elle's body curled up next to his just felt right. He'd wake up to the smell of her hair and the feeling of silky skin under his hand. If anything, it made it harder to leave in the morning. But he could control himself, he assured himself. They both had jobs to do, no sleeping in allowed.

He'd be fine at work most of the day, paperwork kept his mind busy. But little things brought his thoughts back to Elle. He'd catch a whiff of her perfume on his collar, or a stray piece of hair on his shirt, or her cum in his mustache.

He'd fought he urge to call her the first week and a half or so. He'd see her later in the day, there was no point of stopping what he was doing to call over to the hospital. It wasn't until his job kept him from seeing her for three days did he finally swallow his pride and call.

Jimmy had caught him at his desk. Flip thought everyone had gone to lunch, and used it as an excuse to 'call the hospital' to 'get more info on Kukowski's medical status'.

"You're smilin' an awful lot to be asking about a perp's condition," His partners eyebrows were raised as he clutched his coffee mug.

"It's confidential, if you'll excuse me for a minute," He put his hand over the phone so Elle couldn't hear, though the giggling in the background made him think she still could.

"You're talking to that cute nurse aren't you?" Jimmy's smile took up his whole face.

Flip furrowed his brow.

"Thank you for the update ma'am, have a nice day," He put on his authoritative voice, making Elle laugh harder on the other end.

"Alright officer, you too. I'll see you at the diner tonight," She responded before the line disconnected.

He hung up the phone and stood up to get more coffee from the break room.

"Get all the information you needed detective Zimmerman?" His partner called behind him, voice full of smug glee.

He was just met with a middle finger as Flip left the room.

——

"I wanna take you out," He mumbled against her breast.

Post-coitus, Flip had taken to resting his head on her chest. It gave her easy access to run her fingers through his hair, and let him use her breasts as pillows as he came down from his high.

"Like a date? We were just at the diner yesterday," She reminded him.

"No, like a real date. We can go to this nice Italian place on my side of town. They have candles on the tables and they dim the lights and stuff,"

"I mean if you want to. I don't think I've been on a real date in like a year," She mused, fingers scraping along his scalp in a soothing motion. He was practically purring under her touch.

“I’d say it’s just about time then,”

“When was the last time you went on a date? A real one, not picking up a girl at a bar,” She turned her head so she could look at him.

Her curls, which had been fanned across the pillow moments before, were gathered in to a braid and thrown over her shoulder. He was playing with the end of it, dragging the hair across her skin and watching her try not to act ticklish.

“I don’t know, maybe a couple of years ago?”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t like the question, but why aren’t you married?”

His head rose from her chest as he propped himself up with his elbows. He looked at her, analyzing her face as he thought about how to answer.

“I am married. You’re my mistress, didn’t you know?”

“Phillip,” She rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. You’re a great guy, respectful, good in bed, you got a good job, I can’t figure out how you haven’t been snatched up,”

“I’m married to my job is the short answer. Being on the force is hard. I work long hours, I can’t always be there, and I have to keep a lot of secrets,” He bit at his lip as he thought of what he wanted to say next.

There were some things he wasn’t quite ready to share with her, mainly that he was an undercover officer and not just a regular guy on the force. If they were truly keeping things casual, he wanted to keep her away from the more dangerous aspects of his job. If they kept this going and got more serious, he pledged to himself to have an honest conversation about his position, and what it could mean for their relationship.

“I had a long time girlfriend when I joined the force. Linda. We started dating right before I was accepted at the academy. She helped me through it, staying up studying with me, going to my graduation. My mom kept asking me when I was going to propose. I thought I wanted to, maybe in the next year or so. But police work kept getting harder. I’d be working long nights, had to cancel a few dates. Linda was okay with it at first, but it kept happening. I’d try to make it up to her, but I was new to the team and a lot of the grunt work would fall on me. Eventually she broke up with me, said she couldn’t take it anymore. She never knew where I was or if I was safe or whether she was going to see me that night. I understood, tried to tell her it would get better, but I knew I couldn't make her happy anymore,”

“So I kept on with work, tried dating a few other girls after that but it was the same problem. They wanted me home for dinner every night and being a detective just doesn’t allow for that. Flings have just been easier,”

He didn’t realize he’d looked away from her while speaking, vulnerability bubbling up in his chest as he spoke. He looked back at her to see she’d been watching him the whole time. Her brow was slightly furrowed and her eyes tinged with sadness.

“I’m sorry that happened,” She started. “You deserve someone who understands,”

“You have pretty well,” He offered.

“My job is just similar is all. Long shifts, late nights. It’s a pain in the ass to work around, you just gotta find the right person. I thought I had, back in Indiana. I was seeing this guy, Abe. He worked at the university nearby and never complained about my job. He was the first guy who didn’t immediately try to get me to quit and become a housewife. He seemed to get that my job was important to me, that I really love what I do,”

“But?” Flip asked. Elle sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

“But once I got the opportunity to come work here in Colorado things started to change. Abe even talked about moving with me at one point, him getting a job at a state college down here. But the closer the moving date got, the more keen to stay in Indiana he was. It was just talk to him, a fantasy. He never really intended on moving, and never thought i’d actually want to go. When he realized what I really wanted, he begged me to stay with him. He gave me his grandmother’s wedding ring and asked me to marry him,”

“He didn’t really know you all that well then, huh?”

“No, I guess not,” Elle let out a dry laugh. “If I wanted to marry him, I would have by then. I think he thought it was romantic, a sweeping declaration of love. It really just cemented my decision to leave. I gave him the ring back and told him I was sorry. I took a Greyhound to here a week later,”

“I guess we’re both married to out jobs then,” Flip set his head back down on her chest.

“I do have to wear white everyday,” She noted, stifling a laugh. He chuckled at her joke along with her.

“We don’t have to worry about labels or anything right now. We’re just two busy adults having a good time with one another. No weddings or family heirlooms involved,” He assured her, his hand reaching up to play with the pendant sitting near the hollow of her throat.

“You’re the only guy I’m seeing right now,” He could feel the vibrations from her voice as she spoke. “I’m okay with this being more casual, but I thought you should know,”

“You’re the only girl I’m seeing right now,” He left out the part where even if there were others, he’d drop them in an instant to be with her. He knew he should take it slow, for both their sake, but he couldn't help but feel this was a little more emotionally invested than just having a good time together.

“Wow, we’re really bad at this,” She teased. “So, as two casual-but-currently-monogamous professionals, when is the best time for us to go on a date?,”

“Maybe Saturday night after you get off work? I can pick you up,” He knew he'd be meeting ‘the organization’ at Felix's house earlier that day. It would be his first meeting with the whole bunch, but he didn't expect it to last into the night.

“Only if we go dutch with the check,” She pointed at him.

"Of course," his palm rubbed against her bare breast catching her nipple. “Now do you think we can fit one more round in before midnight?”

She gasped under his touch, giving him a sly smirk before pulling him into round three for the night.

-------

If Flip knew he was going to spend his Saturday being forced to take a lie detector test at gunpoint, listen to his partner throw a rock through the window of a klansman's house, and then have to chase after said klansman to make sure his partner wasn't shot, he would have chosen a different night for his date with Elle.

But here he was, heart rate still trying to even itself as he drove home hours later. He would've been fine if Ron didn't throw a rock through the window of Felix's house. He would’ve talked his way out somehow. What was he even thinking? A black man instigating an attack while the house was crawling with armed white supremacists? He'd spoken to him about it at the station after he left Felix's, it didn't go great.

Ron was more focused on trying to make Flip impassioned about the cause. Trying to get him to feel the same way as he did, even though that wasn't him. He didn't let personal stuff get in the way of his work, he couldn't if he wanted to do a good job.

“Doesn’t that hatred you’ve been hearing the Klan say doesn’t that piss you off?” Ron had asked him in the dimly lit records room before they headed out for the weekend.

“Of course it does,” He’d responded. It was an easy question to answer, but it felt much more complicated under the surface.

“Then why you acting like you ain’t got skin in the game, brother?”

The Rookie’s words were frustrating. He didn’t understand what it was like for Flip growing up. His family pushing away their religion and their culture to fit in, until they were left with nothing but a name and some disregarded family heirlooms hidden away in the closet. Him never feeling like he really fit in with his Christian classmates, but also unable to relate to any Jewish people he met. He was always stuck in some middle ground, somewhere between what his parents wanted him to be and what they tried to keep from him.

Of course he had skin in the game, when the Klan talked about hating Jews, they were talking about his family. They were talking about Eliana. They were talking about him. Ron wasn’t considering how maybe it was so easy for him to slip into the roll of ‘White Anglo-Saxon Protestant, cherry pie, hot dog, white boy’ because it was all he ever knew. It’s not like he’s parading around with these racists and heading on home to Shabbat after, he knew nothing about the culture the Klan hated him for being apart of.

“Rookie, that’s my fucking business,” He gritted out, making direct eye contact with Ron. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore, especially not with his partner.

“It’s our business,” Ron responded.

Fuck that. He left him standing there in the back of the room as he lit a cigarette. It’d help calm him down.

Flip took a deep breath in an attempt to clear out all feelings from his work. He decided to focus on the night ahead. A date with Elle. A real date with Elle. He'd picked out his clothes earlier that day, his nerves getting the better of him. The black slacks and white polyester shirt were lying on his bed with a pair of dress shoes on the floor.

He slipped out of his work clothes and took a quick shower before re-dressing, his large hands buttoning the shirt with a practiced ease. He took a look in the mirror, smoothing down his damp hair into his usual center part before adjusting his cuffs.

All he could think when he looked at his reflection was of Felix pointing the gun to his head. It wasn't the first time it had happened. He'll, he'd been to war before he was on the force. And he'd been an undercover officer for the last three years, he'd had his fair share of close calls. But this was different. That gun wasn't to his head because of something completely out of his control; his heritage. Something he didn't even see as a big part of him.

What would have happened if they somehow found out who he really was? Would he have been shot over something so trivial? Was it trivial if someone wanted to kill him over it? He wasn't even a practicing Jew. But would that have mattered?

He laced up the dress shoes and shrugged on his sherpa jacket before leaving his quiet apartment to pick up his date. He tried hard to push his work out of his mind, turning up the radio to let a Chicago song take up the overworked parts of his brain.

Time passes much too quickly

When we're together laughing

I wish I could sing it to you, oh no

I wish I could sing it to you

He pulled up to Elle's right as she was walking out the front door. She beamed as she saw his car pull up. He put it in park and was about to climb out to open the door for her when she yelled over for him to stay inside.

Perplexed, he sat in the drivers seat as she got in the car and settled in the passengers side.

"You don't need to get out of the car just to get back in, I can open a dumb door by myself," She explained, giving him a peck on the cheek after.

"If you insist," He caught her face before she turned away, pulling her into a longer kiss on the lips.

She hummed with content as his lips pressed against hers, an emotion he felt himself. The world disappeared for a second, his problems evaporating when he could smell her perfume permeating the air around them.

They broke apart and it took him a moment to drift back to reality. With one hand on the wheel and one hand resting with hers in the median, he drove off toward their destination.

Giuseppe's Italian Restaurant was a tiny whole-in-the-wall joint, with decor that hadn't been updated since they opened in 1940. But they had some of the best reviews in the city.

Flip let Elle get out of the car on her own, taking a good look at her outfit for the night. Her hair was down, her dark curls contrasting against her fair skin. Her necklace rested against her clavicle as always. She was wearing a floral dress, made of a flowing material. The neckline was tight and plunged, showing a fair amount of skin, but the skirt came to mid-calf and was gathered. It wasn't something he'd ever picture her wearing but she looked fantastic.

"A dress?" He placed his hand on her lower back as they walked toward the entrance. "Weren't you just protesting by wearing pants to work?"

"I'm not at work, am I? I can clean up nice from time to time," She wore a sly smile as they were escorted to their table.

Wine was ordered with dinner, the plates of food so big that they had to move the candle to the side of the small table. Everything was going great, the two of them talking in hushed tones and laughing in not-so hushed ones. They picked off each other's plates, earning the occasional side-eye from some of the more refined diners. Elle would raise an eyebrow at them and they'd turn their attention back to their own table.

He was about to take another bite of pasta when he saw a man walk by the window who looked awfully familiar. Blonde hair, slight build, gaunt face, Felix-like. Flips blood suddenly ran cold. His eyes trained on the front window as the man walked by, trying to get a better look at him.

The man walked by, not bothering to look inside the restaurant. After a few seconds of studying his face, Flip determined it wasn't Felix. He breathed a sigh of relief, trying to yet again push the image of a gun to his head out of his mind.

"Flip?" He heard his voice called.

He turned his head back to the table to see Elle staring at him, brow furrowed. She'd rested her hand on top of his, something he hadn't even felt her do.

"You drifted for a moment there, are you feeling okay?" She asked.

“Yeah, just thought I saw someone from work, sorry about that,"

"Do you want to leave? We can eat the rest of this later if you'd like,"

"No, no, let's finish our date. I'm fine, really," He squeezed her hand, hoping to reassure her.

She gave him a look before continuing to eat. They filled the next couple of minutes with small talk, his mind still half at work as he thought about what happened at Felix's.

"Tell me more about your family," He found himself saying.

"Uh, what do you want to know?" She asked, looking at him with uncertainty.

"Why did they come to America? You said it was before the way right? Why America?"

"It's the land of opportunity. Coming from 1930s Germany, where they weren't even considered to be citizens, America was a paradise,"

"How were they not citizens?"

"Jews weren't citizens under the Nuremberg laws. Even if they'd lived in the country for generations, like my family. Before the war even started, dozens of restrictions were put on Jews to prevent them from contributing. We had to identify our businesses, we had to be in a registry, we couldn't marry outside our race-"

Flip's brain clicked. Jews were considered a race, not always just a religion. He knew this, but something in the way Elle spoke of it brought back memories of events he hadn’t really considered before. The way "Jew" was said by kids in grade school on the playground. The way it was said in a hushed tone by his mother's Bridge Club when she's host them at their house after carefully hiding all family relics. The way it was spat like venom by members of the Klan, said like it was the lowest thing a person could be.

"What were the Nuremberg laws?" He asked.

"What are they teaching out here?" She half-muttered, looking concerned. "They were laws to systematically enforce discrimination against Jews. The holocaust didn't happen overnight, the government worked for years to get Germany to see us as inferior. These laws prevented us from working and socializing outside our communities. Many fled, like my mother and father. They left in 1937, and had to give up most of their wealth in order to be allowed to emigrate. The rest of the family stayed behind, and were eventually taken to the camps,"

She grimaced as she spoke, rubbing her pendant between her fingers.

"My mother's brother was the only survivor we know of our family. He came to the US to live with us after he was liberated. I'd never met him before the war but mama says he wasn't the same when he came to live with us. He rarely talked about his time in the camps, and held a lot of survivors guilt. He watched everyone around him die, I can't imagine what he had to do to survive,"

She had looked down while talking, and looked back up at Flip when she finished, seeming startled.

"Sorry, this is really heavy conversation for a date,"

"No, I was the one who asked. I guess there are a lot of things they don't teach about the holocaust in school,"

"It's a shonda, how can people be expected to learn from it if they don't even know about it?" She slapped her hand on the table, drawing another look from a nearby table.

"They teach enough for it to never happen again," He said

"I hope you're right," She sounded unconvinced. "But either way, my family came here with next to nothing. At least they got here, a lot of people who tried to come to America as refugees were turned away at the border. They had to go back to Europe, where many died during the war. My parents were fortunate to have friends here to help get them on their feet,"

"I don't really know where my family came from. My grandparents on my fathers side came from Russia, but my mother never talked about her family. She said they'd passed away when I was a baby. We didn't really talk much in my family if you can't tell," He tried to make light of the situation.

"Maybe you could find some records at your parent's house. Or you could talk to your grandparents, if they're still alive,"

"They're not, but my parents inherited a bunch of their stuff, so I could ask," He said, thinking to himself about how that might go. They should be more open to talking about family stuff. He was an adult for fucks sake.

He considered how different his life was from Elle's. An assimilated military family in middle America versus an immigrant family from the biggest melting pot city in the world. Vastly different lives that somehow became connected. He caresses her hand with his thumb as he took it all in. The two of them sitting in this tiny restaurant in the candle light, talking about their lives openly.

"I like you, Eliana, a lot," He confessed, unable to find the words to fully express his feelings.

"I like you too, Phillip,” She stopped the movement of his thumb so she could hold his hand. "And this date is nice, but I can think of some place I'd rather be,"

"Oh?"

She leaned across the table, lowering her voice for his ears only.

"In my bed, with you on top of me, fucking me into the mattress until dawn,"

He was grateful his hair covered his ears because they for sure just turned red. He felt his cock stir in his pants, his hips shifting to try to adjust.

"Were in public, you know that right?" He smirked, lacing his fingers with hers.

"I can't help it if I want you in me 24/7," She pouted, letting her big brown eyes work him over.

"Is that so?" He leaned forward, letting his lips press against her ear as he spoke.

"If you want my fat cock in you, you're gonna have to listen closely Trouble. We're going to get out of here, get in my car and drive home. You're gonna be a good girl, I can't be getting pulled over by a coworker because you can't keep your hands to yourself,"

Her breath hitched as he continued.

"When we get back to your place, I suggest you take that dress off before I tear it off you. And then you'll get what you want, do you understand me?"

"Ten-four, detective," She whispered.

A few seconds later he felt her bare foot ghost over his lap. She must have taken off her heel while he was talking, and was now rubbing him through the fabric. The little minx. He raised an eyebrow at her, holding her foot steady with his hand. He was suddenly thankful the tablecloths were long.

"You said I couldn't touch you in the car, were not quite there yet, are we?" Her eyes glinted and her mouth twisted into a devilish smile.

"Check please!" He choked out.

_______

NOTES

There aren’t a ton of notes for this chapter, its more of just dissecting Flip’s feelings and struggle with understanding his identity. Where Elle grew up very sure in her cultural/religious identity, Flip didn’t really “grow up Jewish” as he mentioned in the movie. I think he’d definitely struggle with his identity, especially when confronted with so much hate regarding it.

Here’s a basic idea of what Elle’s dress might look like (center dress)

I mentioned the Nuremberg Laws in chapter 4, but if you want to hear about the atrocities of the holocaust listen to the Mengele episodes from Last Podcast On The Left. It’s a three-part series and a little hard to stomach at times. I have a pretty strong stomach when it comes to true crime but this one got me a few times where I had to take a break (definite TW).

A shonda is yiddish for a disgrace/scandal. Its great vocab for overdramatic people such as I.

Thanks for reading!

#flip zimmerman #flip x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #masterlist #ARTBmasterlist

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chipsanddespair · 7 years ago

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((Continued from Parts Iand II))

Pain.

Searing, white-hot, soul-crushing, heart-rending.

The end of all things.

The only word Katherine could think to describe it was torture. In truth, it was twenty-four hours and nothing more. It might as well have been twenty-four years for the glacial pace at which time seemed to crawl.

A single day. One more day of pretending, one more day of acting. One more day of being someone she wasnt. One more day under her mothers tyrannical thumb.

Breakfast was its usual, agonizing affair. Alone in the grand dining room but for the hellish company of her mother and the silent acquiescence of the servants. Her mother was her usual caustic self, a constant stream of nitpicks and criticisms. Her hair wasnt done up properly, her dress was tied poorly, she didnt eat like a lady. When Katherine accidentally let slip a small burp, the scowl on her mothers face was nothing short of murderous.

The rest of the day passed in its usual, mind-numbing fashion. Lessons, etiquette, the dozen equally pointless tasks of a Lady. She glanced repeatedly out the window, whenever she could spare a second, watching the sun as it peaked and began to descend. She was even less attentive than usual as she counted every second until it was safe to retire to her room.

When at last she did, she leaned against the shut door with a massive sigh. Seventeen years of desperation and resentment, or feeling like a prisoner in her own home, flowing out of her as she imagined her new life.

The sun finally vanished below the horizon over the ocean, an eerie purple glow the only vestige of it left. She stripped herself of her dress and and donned the same simple clothes she had worn the night before and pulled the hat onto her head, tucking her long hair up inside it. At last, she pulled out the necklace, their freedom.

Instead of the smaller flat shoes, she fetched a larger pair of boots from the back of her wardrobe, stolen from the work crews. She fastened the necklace around her ankle and carefully tugged the boots over it, hiding it, uncomfortably but hidden. All the while her heart raced with anticipation, approaching the greatest moment of her life.

She gathered up her few worldly possessions and packed them in a small satchel. The sack of gold she stole clipped to her belt. She extinguished her candles, and put her foot on the sill of her window. Turning back, she gazed about the room. Her room. Her prison. Strangely, she felt no sense of loss over it. It was the only space in her seventeen years that was wholly her own, yet it was never anything more than a place to hide from the misery. It brought her no joy of its own.

One thing did give her pause. She sprinted to her desk and found a small bit of parchment and a quill.

Father,

I will be sorry forever that I leave without the chance to tell you goodbye. I believe in my heart that someday I will have the chance to apologize. However, I think we both know this life is not for me, that my heart belongs elsewhere. I am leaving for a life of my own, to find my own joy and sorrow. I love you, Father.

Farewell,

Katy

She folded up the note and took it to her closet, along with a long box. She tucked it underneath the blade of the sword and stored the box in the back of her closet. She wouldnt be taking it. He would find it there.

She jumped to the window and out into the night air one last time. Sad to not have her father to say farewell, but joyous at the life before her.

The docks smelled heavily of salt, the crashing waves closer than ever. Katherine sat on the edge, feet dangling toward the water as she waited for Amelia to arrive.

For the first time that day, a true smile dawned on her face when she heard the voice behind her. She leaped to her feet and turned, their eyes meeting once more. Katherine bounced across the docks and threw herself into the taller girls arms. Without warning, she pressed her lips to Amelias for a moment.

I take it youre itching to go then. Amelia chuckled as they broke apart.

That obvious is it?

Amelia nodded, smirking still.Well need to hurry then. Ive already spoken to a captain and hes willing to give us passage to Booty Bay, no questions asked. Hes a scoundrel, though, he wouldnt settle for less than three hundred gold.

Katherine pulled up the pouch.Ive got five.

We may have to hand over it all to get private quarters on the ship. His crew looked even less honorable.

They moved along the docks, Katherine following Amelia until they reached the appropriate pier. It was certainly a seedy place after dark. Burly men wandered the dark, working or drinking, sometimes both. They glanced with raised eyebrows as the oddly dressed pair walked past.

The captain and his ship stood at the edge of the dock. He looked particularly untrustworthy and greeted them impatiently.We dontave all night, loves. Lets ave the gold and well be on our way.

Katherine glanced at Amelia, who subtly nodded her head. Katherine unclipped the bag and handed it over to him.An extra two hundred for a private place to stay the trip sound reasonable? She ventured.

Whatever you want, girlie… He stood aside and gestured up the gangplank.

Katherine went first moving to step up onto the ship. Suddenly, the captain reached out and snapped his hand around her wrist.Hold up, sweetheart. Theres just one piece of business before you board.

She whipped around to Amelia, hoping she would know what this was about. Amelias smile faded too and she looked confused. Everything after that seemed in slow motion. Amelias body jerked. For a moment, Katherine didnt understand why. The girl slumped to her knees, and Katherine saw why. A crossbow bolt was embedded deep into her back.

She screamed. Or did she? The world seemed to have lost all sensation. Everything was dark, silent. Katherine jerked her arm free from his grip and jumped toward Amelia, but the captain wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her there.

Her sapphire blue eyes, Amelias emerald greens. They locked as Katherines chest was rent in two. She felt the burning tears begin to fall. She tried to reach for her but her arms were held back.Two of the dockhands stepped in and grabbed Amelia under the arms.

Katherine screamed. And screamed again. She called her name, begged for them to stop, but they dragged her away all the same. Amelia was a mirror, reaching out for Katherine, screaming and crying.

A figure emerged from the shadows and Katherines heart fell to the absolute lowest it would go. Renira Whiteholm, her mother. Looking absolutely out of place among the grime and grunge of the docks.

Ive told you for the last time, Katherine. You are going to obey me.

Katherine felt dead inside, tearing her eyes from her mother to watch, now in silence, eyes and face reddened with despair and rage, as Amelia was dragged, screaming into the crowd. Renira approached the captain and handed over a note, one thousand gold from the vaults of KulTiras.

The captain thanked her and shoved Katherine forward into the grip of her mother. She didnt fight. She couldnt. Her eyes were on the spot where Amelia vanished into the throng. She could still hear her screaming.

One of the burly men approached Renira.Wha you want us to do wit the otha one?

Renira waved her hand dismissively and the man wandered off. From out of the crowd, Amelia screams echoed, piercing into Katherines ears like a knife. Then, in an instant, they were silenced. Cut off. And Katherine didnt want to know why.

Was it even pain?

It felt more like emptiness, nothingness. A despair so deep and a hurt so intense that it felt as though she had died. A mere phantom possessing her body, waiting for the final moment to pass on.

She stood in her room, her mother before towering over her, silently stoic. But there was rage in her eyes, pure hatred of her own daughter.

Katherine felt a sting as her mother slapped her fully across the cheek. Her head snapped to the side but she didnt feel the pain. She turned her head back to face her mother, defiant but dead inside. The tears had stopped, there were none left inside her. Without a word, her mother stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Katherine fell to her knees, utterly broken, completely devastated. Her dreams had been shattered, her only love stolen away. Her eyes stared unblinkingly at the door. Slowly, the emptiness in her heart began to fill. Rage. Fury. Hatred.

After a while, she moved to stand and felt something scrape her foot. She removed her boot and stared at the necklace tied around her ankle. Its hiding spot had worked. She still had it. Far more quickly than the anger had come, it faded. She removed the necklace and stared into the emerald facets. She saw more of Amelias face than her own. She loved Amelia, and felt in her heart that love returned.

Amelia wouldnt want her to hate. She would want her to live. She rose to her feet and clenched that small spark of freedom in her hands. She still had hope. She heard Amelia screams in her ears. Fresh tears came to her eyes, but she blinked them away, and the screams were replaced with something else.

She crossed to the window and stared out at it. Five words ringing into her ears from the abyss…

To the moon…and back.

((This one was HARD to write…….))

#chips #despair

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chipsanddespair · 7 years ago

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