Chapter Text
She’s not sure who lunges first.
All she remembers after his declaration is a blissful beat where nothing happens, each shocked by the other, then -
“Shut up and kiss me, Stoll,” and they move towards each other.
Their teeth clash awkwardly at first as they move towards each other but soon they fall into a steady rhythm, a game of push and pull as they draw out lingering kisses from another. Strawberries, she thinks to herself as he kisses her gently, tipping her chin upwards with long fingers. For him, ambrosia tastes like strawberries. She can barely register the importance of this, not when his calloused fingers tangle and scrape her scalp and all she wants now is to forget, forget the long years of hurt and confusion between them and wants only him. Just for a moment, nothing but him.
Ignoring their wounds, Katie surges forwards and twists her legs around to straddle him, eliciting a strangled croak. His hands are frozen by her side, eyes glassy with shock as she kisses him harder, deeper, but soon he acquiesces. Travis shuts his eyes and kisses her just as hard, adapting rapidly. His hands are everywhere, skimming her back, the swell of her breast and burning a path across her shivering body. Finally, he settles for tangling one hand in her hair and hooking the other under her leg, bringing her closer to him until they’re pressed flush together.
They continue like this; seconds, minutes, Katie can’t tell, but soon she pulls back briefly, gasping for air before she glances at the scar lining his throat, glistening like a spider web in the faint light. Heat pools in her belly when she looks slyly at her mark of possession and she leans in, grazing the scar with her teeth until his breath hitches.
“This doesn’t mean,” she says, and presses faint, feathery kisses onto the scar, “that we’re done talking.”
“I still hate you,” she adds and bites viciously down.
He groans and jerks beneath her and only manages to wheeze out a “yes ma’am,” before he snaps his hips upwards, shocking her still, and moves eagerly to skim his mouth on her ear.
His teeth nip at the curve of her earlobe before he bites down and tugs. A jolt of heat surges through her and she struggles to hold in a breathy moan before he does it again and whispers hotly in her ear, “Listen Kit-Kat,” he says insistently and moves down to press open-mouthed kisses to the curve of her slender neck. She’s quivering at the feeling and can barely heed his voice as she clings to him. “I need to tell you something,” and moves further down to her collarbones, “I stole your strawberries,” he says, voice gravelly with burning heat, and she dimly remembers the stolen strawberries from their first encounter in years. Then, looking at her with wicked, lust-filled eyes, he slowly bites down and sweeps his tongue over the sensitive spot, soothing the pain. It’s all she can take before a whimper escapes her and she can feel his roguish smile pressed against her collar.
“I know, you idiot,” she bites out, but it comes out breathier than she intends and judging by the throaty chuckles coming from Travis, he knows it too.
Katie growls at this, feeling suddenly exposed and tugs roughly at his curls to move his face upwards and back to her mouth. He complies eagerly and soon his mouth is pressed firmly against hers and gods can he kiss, she thinks dizzily as he sweeps his tongue and nips at her bottom lip before pressing down on the jolts of pain with an expert move. He tugs on her hair and she jerks against him in surprise, eliciting a deep moan from him before he kisses her again. Hazily, she thanks whoever taught him to kiss like this even as he drinks her dry.
He laughs at this and pulls on her hair again as she realises with dulled embarrassment that she’d said it aloud, “You do this to me,” and kisses her temple.
She flushes at the sentiment, that he wanted her and feels a sudden rush of affection towards him, despite everything. Emboldened by this, she bores down on him and knocks him roughly further into the chair by his shoulders intending to kiss him to death, when-
Travis barks out in pain at the pressure and sits up in surprise, causing Katie to promptly lose her balance and fall onto the hard, unforgiving floor. They look at each other in surprise, panting hard and adrenaline still running in their veins. Katie notices guilty that his hand were now clamped around his bandaged shoulder.
She swallows thickly and his eyes flicker to her mouth, “Is your,” she gulps down the dryness of her throat, “is your shoulder alright?”
He winces a little, “I’m fine,” and offers a smile, but the edges are tight and laced with pain. A deep pang resonates within Katie when she sees this. She may demand his honesty but whether he complies is a different matter.
As she stares at him, she realises how utterly undone he looks. He breathes heavily as his hand clenches and unclenches on the armrest, other still pressed against his ragged wound. His head is tipped back, face flushed and lips red and swollen, and she watches him hoarsely as his Adam’s apple bobs as he gasps for air.
Gods, he was still beautiful.
His head tips back down when he notices her watching and smiles that infuriating smirk and says innocently, “is there something wrong?”
The easiness in which he flirts with her irritates her. She’s disappointed really, that even now, after everything – fingers scraping the back of his neck, his rumbling laughter against her collarbone – he’d hide himself again behind flirtatious words and easy smiles. He’s a liar and a thief, Katie reminds herself, and abruptly, she feels incredibly stupid for falling for his words. She gets up on shaky legs and the world suddenly tips over, unsteadying her, before Katie quickly grasps the edge of the desk with trembling fingers.
Travis looks concerned as he watches this and gods, she can’t handle this, the push-and-pull that characterises their every move when all Katie really wants is a straight answer.
“Katie, you okay?”
No, she thinks dizzily, I’m not okay, and she tries telling him but her mouth opens and closes silently, and it feels like he’s speaking to her from outside a bubble. Distant, like he’d been for so, so long.
His large hands cover hers in concern, and she nearly melts at the sentiment but almost instantly, she wants to snatch her hand away and step back. To her, Travis was like the wind, gone and back again with no telling when only to steal her breathless when he does. She’s not ready to let him in, she decides, still hurting, despite their attraction, despite how she feels wrapped in his arms, impossibly safe because she realises with dread, Travis Stoll stole her heart ages ago and she’s not sure if she holds his.
Because he’s a thief, always stealing the things she holds closest and careless of the damage he wreaks when he runs.
“I can’t,” she starts, and the room begins to feel too stifled, in between him crowding her in with his intense gaze and the salty tang of blood.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers at him, then firmly, “I’m sorry,” and squeezes past him and out the room, wanting to get out. He shouts after her but she ignores him, and misses the way his palms press against his eyes dejectedly.
She bursts outside the office and leans against the closed door, heart pounding. He’s always ruining her plans, she thinks bitterly, plans of moving on and making a life for herself that doesn’t involve him. Looking around, Katie takes an inventory of her nursery to calm herself down — there are two broken vases, courtesy of her intruder, she notes — before realising with embarrassment that all her plants had grown out of hand.
Her nursery had turned into a mess. Flowers burst from every crack in the space: tulips, sunflowers, roses. Her ferns had grown into miniature trees and vines crept and winded across the floor.
Katie looks on, realising that the plants must’ve been tuned to her emotions when they were kissing each other dry and senseless. She flushes with the awkwardness of it, even as a tingle runs through her body, knowing that Travis would understand what it means. Desperately, not wanting him to steal this from her, at least, she coaxes her plants to return to their regular state, but they refuse her commands. Finally, Katie throws her hands in the air and stalks of deeper into her nursery, desperate to find somewhere she can sit and think, and very, very far from the object of her mind.
Before long, she slows down and realises with surprise that her feet had taken her to her strawberry patch which had remained, blissfully, unchanged. Katie crouches down to sit in the dirt and run her fingers through the damn, brown soil, inhaling the heady scent of sweet strawberries filling the air. She’s not sure how long she sits there; a minute, an hour, crumbling the earth with her fingers and eyes closed but soon she hears him slowly approach and stand beside her.
“You’re all fine now, you don’t need me.” She says firmly, hands tugging at a small weed.
“That’s not why I came.”
“Then you didn’t have to come at all.”
He lets out a strangled noise of exasperation at this. “Did you not hear me before?” He asks, hands swinging wildly, and she knows what he means.
“I heard you, you said,” and she makes air quotes here, “that’s not why I came.”
He scoffs at her, “Don’t play dumb. That’s my act.”
“Hardly an act, that’s all real.”
“Kit-Kat, come on.”
She sighs at this and stops her fiddling, lying to herself and him, “Could’ve meant anything. For all I know, it’s only because you enjoyed stealing strawberries so much.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
Now she looks at him directly, brown eyes locking into blue, “No, I really don’t.”
For his part, he doesn’t falter and only crouches down towards her. “Yes, you do,” he’s too close, and his voice is a delicious rumble. Katie has to lean on her elbows to keep the distance, heart pounding, “you’re just too scared to admit it.”
He’s closing in, eyes never breaking away from hers and moves to place an arm by her side, “That’s not the Katie I know.” He murmurs, gaze searching hers. His other arm goes around her too and he’s bracketing her in; body above her and arms and legs by her side.
That makes her angry. How dare he act like he knows her when he hasn’t even been around.
“Yes, I’m scared,” she remarks flippantly, furiously, and in a reverse of state, hauls herself upwards by his arms, “but at least I’m not the one running. At this, she forces him viciously down and his bare back hits the ground with a pained bark but she can’t bring herself to care. He’s surprised and she notes with interest the beginnings of his arousal. Good, she can use that to her advantage.
“So tell me,” and now she’s straddling him, hips neatly aligned with his, and never has she felt more powerful, more in control than now, looking down on his taut, glistening body, “why did you run?”
Everything she’s ever felt, she communicates in this. The why, why, why dancing in her mind as she wonders why he never visits her, why he’s waited until now to see her and why he still matters, even after all this time but maybe even more so now than before when she’d have to constantly swat his sneaky fingers away from her strawberries and their easy bickering would continue, unbroken, as they crossed paths in their routines.
Why.
He’s silent for a moment, eyes glittering angrily as he watches her, curls hanging in his face. His breath comes out in short pants; because of pain, surprise, desire, Katie doesn’t know but she’s willing to wait this out and end this once and for all.
“Well?” Katie demands and grinds down on him and a wave of pleasure shoots up her spine. She grits her teeth, telling herself to ignore the heady feeling of him pressed flush against her. His breath hitches in his throat as his back arches off the floor, neck taut and fingers scrabbling for purchase on the ground. His eyes are clenched tight and he’s impossibly aroused, she can feel it, but still, she doesn’t waver.
“Well? Why did you run?” She demands again.
He won’t look at her. His head is tilted to the side and his chest heaves with exertion. Sweat pools into the hollow of his neck. She knows he’s looking at her strawberries and feels a little guilty for wrecking him, but she won’t back down, not when they’re so close.
Finally, he looks at her, face set and voice tight. “Ask yourself Kit-Kat, why did I come here tonight?”
For a moment Katie worries she’s pushed him too hard. She’d only just finished bandaging him up before deciding to unravel him. “Travis,” she says a little slowly while wondering what in tartarus this has to do with anything, “you were injured in a gryphon attack.”
She’s a little worried she might’ve been too aggressive.
“Probably got soft after hanging around with frat boys for too long.” Katie adds a beat later.
Travis snorts and shifts under her, “Please Gardner, I handed your ass back to you a hundred times over in training.”
“And? That’s hardly a good basis of comparison when you know I’m superior in long-distance combat.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Is not.”
“Is.”
“Not.”
“…is.”
Katie flicks him on the forehead. It surprises her, how automatic the gesture is when they slip into their bickering. One that she undeniably misses that she can feel her heart clench.
Travis scowls at her from below and rubs at his forehead. “Need I remind you who took an arrow for someone?”
Katie rolls her eyes. Not this argument again. “Hah! You just tripped and got in the way.”
“And anyways, you only ever bring that up when you know you’re losing.”
He pauses and cocks his head, “fair point, Kit-Kat. How much do I owe you now then?”
“20 drachmas.”
“Still!”
“Well, you haven’t been around to pay me back.”
Travis freezes almost imperceptibly and slides his eyes away from her when he answers, almost hesitantly, “that’s true.”
Katie internally sighs. She knew he was stalling her, derailing their conversation, but it felt so good to let go for a moment and just bicker. Like they’ve always done, before everything, before everything changed.
“Travis.” She whispers. He’s back to not looking at her, body unyielding and jaw set. It hurts, really. Having to always be the one that demands and takes while he steals and bargains until you realise you bargained away nothing and everything. She’s always been the responsible one, the nagging one, and she never really minds it but sometimes – like now – she wishes it weren’t.
Katie cups his face and forces him to look at her. He’s scared, she can tell. His fingers drum out a repeated rhythm on the earthy ground and she’s surprised she understands it. It was a code system him and Connor used in their pranks, ages and ages ago. She knows it, a rare quiet moment between them by the camp lake one day had seen to it, and she knows that he knows she sees it. But she’s scared too.
“Travis, please.”
“I came here for you.” His eyes are impossibly sad as he wraps a warm, calloused hand around her wrist. His thumb ghosts across the inner tendons of her wrists and she shivers at the gentleness of it. She wants to snatch her hand away, confidence wavering (I’m the one on top, she reminds herself), but he looks sad in a resigned way so she lets it be.
“The gryphons,” he grimaces, “they weren’t- it wasn’t- that wasn’t meant to happen.” He’s still looking at her, tense, “I wasn’t paying attention.”
He’s struggling with himself, and still his thumb swipes rhythmically over her wrist, like a lifeline.
“Gods, Katie. I’ve wanted you,” and it comes out in a rush, like he’s afraid she’ll hear it, “always.” He whispers.
Katie jolts on him in confusion and his fingers tighten on her wrist as his breath catches, reminding her of the precarious position they’re in. Her brows furrow. She wasn’t sure that this was what she expected. She may have daydreamed about it, yes, but this…
Everyone knew he was crazy for you… except you.
Miranda’s words start to make more sense in her head. That, Katie decides, or that she was finally letting herself see what was in front of her all this time. Suddenly she feels incredibly stupid.
“How long?” she finally manages to say.
He’s never been good with his words when it came to honesty, she remembers, he’d always preferred other methods. Travis crooning out a lullaby to his half-sister when she’d woken from a nightmare, crying for her dead mother. Travis pushing her out of the way and taking an arrow to the arm meant for her chest.
She really does feel stupid.
“Since the chocolate bunnies,” he presses his fingertips to the scar against his throat like an afterthought, “maybe even longer before that.”
For that long?
Katie splutters and smacks his arm, attempting to gain some semblance of normalcy, “You ruined our plants! It took us a month to regrow our roof!”
He shrugs but she knows its forced, “It was Easter! And the Aphrodite kids said chocolate symbolised love.”
She flushes at this, knowing how much he hated dealing with the Aphrodite cabin and what it’d take for him to even think of going there.
“Katie, I-“ and it reminds her of all the times she’s interrupted him when he begins those words, “I wanted- I wanted to make things right.” He finally says. He looks so tired, like using his words takes everything out of him.
“When I saw you behind that counter, I just, didn’t think that was how we’d ever meet again. Connor,” he says by way of explanation, “he told me your nursery was a good place to buy flowers. I didn’t realise you’d be the one running it.” He ends bitterly.
Still, after everything, this is the one thing that confuses her. Why he’s been avoiding her all these years and why he’d never give a straight answer.
“It made me realise how much I missed you,” he tucks her hair impulsively behind her ear, “gods Kit-Kat I’ve missed you. I’ve been so stupid.”
She’s so frustrated with themselves she wants to cry. They’ve both been stupid.
“Then why did you never come back?” Katie asks. She wants to know, needs to know and it feels like she’s burning from the inside out from the want of it.
They’re so still. Nothing moves, and it feels like even her plants hold their breath.
“Why did you never come back?” she whispers again and leans close. His mouth opens and shuts, and she knows she’s asking a lot from him but Katie needs him to use his words. It’s the one thing she understands best.
“Travis.” She’ll demand and take as much as she needs.
“I told myself I couldn’t have you,” he finally grits out and his body tightens beneath her, awaiting judgement. His fingers are clenched so tightly around her wrist it hurts but Katie doesn’t mind. All they’ve done is hurt each other, a little more pain makes no difference.
It confuses her even more. She would’ve accepted him in a heartbeat if he’d let her. Travis isn’t done speaking yet however and continues.
“You’re too good for me Katie. All I ever do is lie and prank and steal. You could do so much better than me.”
Gods, they’re so fucking stupid.
“I only realised that when I got to college. Everyone there is so,” his face twists as he tries to find the right word, “so fucking normal. You told me you wanted normal and I knew I couldn’t give that to you. So I- I thought it’d be best if we stopped seeing each other. Completely. That it’ll hurt less.”
She remembers this. Telling him on quiet warm nights together how she wishes for normal. Turns out neither of them know how to use their words, however. She meant normal the way a demigod might define it. Having someone there watching her back so she doesn’t die, uselessly, to some stupid monster with a grudge. Not having to survive through two wars not even a year apart. He’d thought she meant normal like living her life out as a mere mortal. Just living and dying.
“You idiot.” She’s trembling with the enormity of it. How stupid they’ve been. How they could’ve just, just- Katie doesn’t even know, can’t even comprehend it right now and she wants to laugh at the comically concerned look Travis gives her now.
“You absolute idiot. You don’t get to make the choices for me like that.” She’s half laughing, half crying at this point. “You absolute-“ she slaps his chest in frustration and he pins her arm there.
“Katie.”
He’s so concerned its sweet. “Oh shut up, Travis.” Impulsively Katie leans down and kisses him fleetingly on the lips and says the words she’s hidden for so long, even to herself.
“I love you, Travis Stoll.”
They’re nose to nose. His eyes are impossibly wide and she can see herself reflected in those dark pools. It’s almost insulting how easy those words fall from her lips after all this time. But it really has been that simple if she thinks about it.
He’s so still but she can feel his heartbeat racing where her palm meets his chest. Then he surges forward and catches her lips in his and swallows the gasp she lets out. His hands are cupping her face as he kisses her deeply, tongue sweeping her mouth and she’s so dizzy she needs to brace herself on the ground for support.
Too soon, he breaks the kiss and looks at her, and she can see the same song dancing in his eyes. I love you, I love you, I love you. He’s trembling beneath her and his body is so warm he burns feverish. “Do you mean it?” he whispers out and she can still hear the hesitance coating his words even as he runs to meet her in the middle.
“Do you mean it?” Katie shoots back and nips the scar on his throat.
Hers, she thinks hazily, all hers.
Travis shakes his head as if shaking off a dream. “Yes.” He says and kisses her again, “yes, gods I love you, Kit-Kat,” and suddenly he moves and pushes forward and now she’s flipped beneath him. His arms and legs bracket her in, and she holds onto his forearms in shock. They flex deliciously under her touch and she soon decide it might be her favourite part of him. The way the muscles coil and move as he kisses her again and again, like he can’t get enough of her.
Finally, he breaks away and Katie nearly whines at the loss of him. His eyes are bright with mischief and her heart nearly bursts when she sees it. “You love me, Kit-Kat?” His voice is low and husky where his mouth grazes her ear and his fingers tangle delightfully in her lush hair. She digs her fingers into his muscled arms and pulls him flush to her, not wanting him to be the only one who wreaks blissful destruction on the other. He groans and wraps an arm around her waist; eyes fluttering shut.
She’s drunk on the feel of him, on the knowledge that finally, finally, they were on the same page and hums thoughtfully, teasing him. “I think I might take it back,” and he laughs indulgently and nips her earlobe.
“Honestly. You’re a pain in the ass, you steal my strawberries, you keep stealing my things. You still haven’t given me back my hat.” Katie says accusingly. He laughs again, a deep throaty chuckle, and presses his fingers to her sides. He knows it’s her weak spot and she fails stifling the laugh that bursts out when he tickles her.
“Admit it,” he’s nosing her neck and his voice vibrates against her skin, “you love that about me.”
“… I might.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Might.”
He shrugs, pressing even harder and smiles at her, “I’ll take what I can get.”
Katie pulls his head back towards hers and he eagerly complies. He’s kissing her senseless and she wouldn’t have it any other way; pebbles digging into her back on the hard, unyielding ground, surrounded by the heavy lushness of her favourite fruit and his lean body over hers, deliciously hot and heavy.
Finally, she tugs on his curls and tips his head back. He looks at her from behind half-lidded eyes, glittering with amusement and unbridled lust as he watches her purse her lips thoughtfully, gaze serious. “You know, Stoll.” Her fingers trail down the plains of his lean torso and hooks suggestively onto his belt loops, “five years is a long time. You’ve got a lot to make up for.”
He laughs deeply at this, and she can feel it vibrate across his entire body and smiles. “Agreed Gardner,” and his long fingers are slowly unbuttoning her blouse, eyes growing increasingly dark and his smile is wicked, like a knife in the night. “No time like the present to get started, right?” He presses filthy, open kisses to the side of her neck, trailing downwards and Katie hooks her ankles behind his back in agreement.
They're both still injured, wounds still present - both metaphorical and physical - but she wouldn't have him any other way.
"Better get a move on, then."
It's exactly 11 months and one week later.
They’re walking in a cemetery, and in Travis’s arms are a bouquet of lilies. It’s warm out; the crickets chirp their song in swells and crescendos and Katie brushes her fingers across every gravestone she passes. Her other arm is hooked tightly in Travis’s. She’s dressed in a floral sundress, straw-hat firmly planted on her head - returned by her boyfriend a week after they move in together. Travis, for his part, dresses nicely; in black jeans and white button up. His curls, however, still stick out wildly, every attempt by Katie to tame them had ultimately failed.
He’s quiet beside her as they walk further in. She doesn’t press him though, and only squeezes his arm reassuringly when they finally reach their destination. Connor is already there, kneeling by the headstone and head bowed over. His lips move fervently, and his eyes are screwed tightly shut and Katie realises with a heavy pang that he was praying. Travis moves automatically to join his brother but Katie jerks him back, shaking her head at him once, communicating to him silently in that one movement, let him have some time alone with his mother.
So, they stand there a while. Travis’s eyes never leave his brother whilst Katie’s never leave his. Behind her, she can hear the faint rumble of cars, nearly drowned out by the crickets, and birdsong. When she inhales, the strong, florally scent of bouquets assault her. There were so many, dotted over the field in bright bursts of colour, left to wilt and die. They’re quiet for a long time, and Katie prays to her mother.
Mother help me. Help me, so I’m strong enough for the two of them.
Finally, Connor gets up and turns around to greet them. “Hey Travis, Katie.” His voice is strong, and his smile is bright, but he can’t quite cover the wetness glistening in his eyes. Travis breaks free of her grasp and moves towards Connor and hugs him tightly and Katie feels awfully like a bystander even when she was invited.
They were lounging in bed; Katie’s head curled on his lap and his hand smoothing down her hair, fingers tangling and gently scraping her scalp. Sunlight streamed through the window; highlighting the particles drifting in the air and Katie was nearly asleep, drowsy from the warmth when he spoke.
“It’s mom’s anniversary next week.”
She was drifting cosily into unconsciousness when he said this, and Katie slowly blinked her eyes open. He looked down at her, eyes warm but face unreadable. His hand continued smoothing down her hair. She knew what this meant. Mom’s anniversary. The anniversary of her death. It was the reason why he’d fallen back into her life again that fateful day. Katie moved her hand to find his and linked them together. His palm was warm and rough from callouses; a testament to his abilities as a fighter. She knew how much she meant to him, to both him and Connor.
“I’ll be visiting her with Connor.”
He doesn’t ask her to come with him and she knows he won’t ask that of her. But Katie knows him, knows how much he’ll sink into his own head and thoughts if no one is there to pull him out.
“I’ll come with you,” she said automatically.
His hand paused on her head and he looked down at her with such surprise it almost worried her that he thought she wouldn’t ask. Not after everything.
“Really?”
Katie flicked him on the forehead, “Yes, you idiot.”
He stared at her for a moment before pouncing, flipping her underneath him with uncharacteristic grace. His eyes were blown wide and mouth open as he looked down at her, hands splayed possessively across her hips, pinning her into the soft cotton sheets of their bed. Katie wasn’t sure why he was so surprised but smoothed the lines creasing his brow anyways.
“You’ll come with me?”
Katie laughed at him exasperatingly, “Yes! Off course I would, why wouldn’t I?”
He didn’t reply and instead leaned down to kissed her deeply. When he broke off the kiss to look at her – a mad glint in his eye but filled with so much adoration – Katie groaned in frustration and tried pulling his mouth back onto hers before he placed a single, long finger on her lips.
“Did no one ever teach you patience?” he asked and shook his head in mock condescension.
Katie snorted and moved to pull his head back to hers, “And I thought you were the eager one.” Still he refused to budge, and she tilted her head in question before he slowly slid down her body, kissing her neck, her chest and her belly. A familiar grin graced his face even as his eyes glimmered intensely, never once leaving hers, as if savouring ever expression flitting across her face as he continued his path downward. Katie could feel the familiar heat igniting, blood thickening in her veins and pulse quickening when he finally slid off the bed and sank onto his knees, fingers gripping her calves tightly.
By now she was panting heavily, body trembling with anticipation even as Travis stood still, tense and silent, fingers skimming the length of her leg over and over. It was a game they played, waiting to see who would break first.
This time, Katie broke.
“Hells, Travis,” she swore breathlessly, “just hurry up already!”
Travis chuckled, “Who’s eager now, Kit-Kat?” He said wickedly, and it sent a tingle down her spine before he spread her thighs apart and everything turned white hot.
Katie flushes at the memory. Travis was generally an attentive lover, filing away everything about her that even she wouldn’t know off. But that day was different. He managed to draw her to completion with only his fingers and mouth, thrice, before entering deep inside her.
When they break apart, Connor looks steadier on his feet and she moves to be closer with them and closes the circle they make. He smiles at her and touches her shoulder before walking away.
“I’ll be back. Just need some air.”
Katie cocks her head at Travis questioningly, but he shakes his head. Then he turns around to walk towards his mother’s gravestone but Katie hovers, unsure whether he wants her around for this.
He makes the decision for her, “Stay, Kit-Kat,” and she joins him and links her fingers through his. They kneel on the soft grass together, knees touching and their linked hands between them.
Charlotte Stoll. 1969 – 2013. Generous of heart, of kindness, and of love.
She’s never met her, but her heart aches and she wonders how different things would be if she was still alive today. Guiltily, Katie wonders whether Travis and her would’ve connected again if it weren’t for the fact.
Travis places the lilies down, clears his throat and squeezes her fingers. “Hey, mom.”
His voice is as sure as his pilfering fingers. “It’s been a while since I visited, sorry about that. I graduated. Got a job offer at this cool start-up company.”
Katie leans her head on his shoulder, and he glances at her. “I – I’m with Katie now, like you always wished for.”
She lifts her head off his shoulder to stare dumbly at him, “You told her about me?”
He shrugs and places an arm around her, “I might’ve a little.”
“A little,” Katie adds drily and leans back on him, “enough for her to make plans for me then.”
“Okay, maybe more than a little.”
Katie peers at him shrewdly and he cringes under her gaze, “Right.”
“Definitely.”
“Hmm.”
“Okay I might’ve mentioned you a couple times.” She arches a disbelieving brow at him. Travis looks back at her with practiced innocence before rolling his eyes, “Okay, I talked about you a lot. Happy?”
“I’m not saying anything.” She says smugly but doesn’t manage to wipe the grin of her face.
Travis groans and pinches her side, causing her to yelp in surprise. “Oh, fuck off, Kit-Kat.” But he says it good naturedly and pulls her closer.
“You definitely would’ve liked her mom, she’s the best person I know.” Now, his voice grows tighter, “I wish you could’ve met her. I’m sorry you couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t tell her I loved her sooner.”
She knows that sometimes he still struggles with this, with the what should’ve happened opposed to what did. But Katie made her peace long ago and realises that what stops him from doing the same is his mother.
“Travis,” she starts hesitantly, “you know what we’ve said about this.”
“I know,” he says, shakily, then more firmly, “I know. I just, feel like I need to tell her. That’s all.”
They stare silently at her headstone for a moment, and Katie, feeling the need to give something, grows a bed of wildflowers around it. She grows an array of colours; yellow, white, lilac, blue – and they circle the headstone protectively, bursting with brightness as Katie feeds them a river of the love she feels for the people in her life.
“Thanks, Kit-Kat.” He finally says.
“No problem, Stoll.”
He smiles fondly at her, then looks back at his mother’s headstone. “I love you, mom” He whispers.
Finally, Travis gets up and Katie follows his lead. When he looks at her, it’s with so much love and affection it makes her heart stutter. She presses away the frown lines marring his forehead, “Don’t be sad, Travis. It’ll make you age faster.”
He barks a laugh at this and winds his arms around her waist, picking her up, and twirls her around, causing her to squeal. “You prick. I know you only stick around for my face.” He drops Katie down and pulls her flush to him from behind, “and my body.” He whispers seductively in her ear, chin resting on her shoulder.
“Hmm yes. I only stick around for your arms,” and he flexes them when he wraps his arms around her front, knowing how much she loved them.
They sway silently in the breeze, enjoying the moment.
“I love you, Katie.”
“I love you too, Travis."
And while he may have stolen her heart long ago, she knew now that she held his.
After all, she learned her thieving from the best.