𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐚¹- hp.

𝐱𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. the girl who cried wolf.

꧁—— ❦ ——꧂

"What is it that we're waiting for?" Katalina asks, looking much too elegant to be leaning against the dirtied stone railing. Each time she tilts her head to peer over Lavinia's shoulder she can feel her breathing against the back of her neck, the prickles that scratch her skin raw.

Lavinia's nose twitches, angrily tightening her grip around the railing and narrowing her eyes, attentive as she stares at the entrance door, "Della Rocca."

"Absolutely not." Katalina quickly grabs Lavinia's wrist, tugging in an attempt to force her to turn around. "Why are we waiting for Della Rocca of all people?"

"Don't touch me!" Lavinia snarls when she feels the skin beneath her hand starting to burn. It's gotten worse, she thinks, since Hallowe'en and vaguely reminds her of her mother when she yanks it away. "Della Rocca hasn't kept up her end of the deal."

Della Rocca, I'll have your fucking teeth.

"I'm almost vibrating with excitement." Lavinia says with a wicked grin. "Reckon dear old daddy will have to pay for another set of veneers."

When she receives no response in return ( which she thinks is odd, if Katalina's insistence in the encounter is anything to go by ) she turns her head to look over her shoulder, and guilt seems to slam a brick into her gut. Katalina's removed her hand but she stares, crestfallen, towards the damp concrete, brows furrowed and a tremor in her hand Lavinia's learned she only does when distressed. She's worrying her bottom lip, and she can see a cloud of misty grey settling over the corners of hazel and thinks, shit.

"Fuck... Kat, I'm sorry." Lavinia sighs, removes one hand from the railing to rub against her face. "I should never have said that, I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Katalina quietly sniffs, blinks a couple of times. "Can I ask why I can't touch you?"

It feels like you want to watch me burn.

"I fell on my wrist." Lavinia lies, flexing her fingers. "The other day when you were in maths. I fell in the dorm."

"You alright?" Katalina asks, and she feels the guilt gnawing on the chipped corners of her soul. Sharp teeth that pierce the edges and rip it off for the infernos beneath her. Her eyes are warm and swimming with concern, looking as if they could swallow her whole.

When Lavinia doesn't answer Katalina holds her hands out, tentatively hovering them in the cool breeze, "Can I...?"

Burn me at the stake, Katalina. Go ahead.

"Yes." Lavinia says, bites the inside of her cheek.

Katalina's eyes soften once she's grabbed her wrist, assuming the wince is from how sore it's become from the fall. Lavinia wants to sneer and tug her wrist back from the raging sear that gnaws at her flesh and leaves teeth marks on the bone. There's something wrong with whats happened and she doesn't understand it. Why Katalina's touch went from a tingle to a full burn. It almost feels like she knows something she shouldn't, or Katalina's mind has admitted something she's too afraid to say out loud. But, as it is, Lavinia's the one who will pay for it; she'd never admit to Katalina the reason she hates that she touches her, or the way she can feel her skin burning raw and blistering if a hands been left on her too long — it infuriates her and tugs a string in her stomach.