For Our Fates // A Crown The Empire Fanfiction

Hayden - 10

I throw the blood stained button-up onto the floor rather than the bathroom counter. I know that the blood would easily stain the area around the sink; and I'm not willing to hear the whole "this theatre is history and you're trashing it" speech from Andrew.

Little Miss Grey is waiting outside of the bathroom in an oversized T-shirt and new bandages to cover her wounds. She's most likely sitting underneath the water fountain and staring at the maidens in a deep fear. Their missing limbs and anything that offers them a sense has a surreal affect on her.

I glance at myself in the mirror covered in soap and water droplets in order to wash my face and clear my skin of Angel's blood.

I hear the door creak open from across the hall, than the murmuring of one feminine voice to another.

"What are you doing out here, hun? Are you alright?"

I jump a little because the voice scared the crap out of me -- my first thought was that the voice was meant for me to hear. But no, i'm in the men's room and there was no knock on the door.

This person is conversating with Angel.

I pick up the soaken shirt up off the floor, then walk out the door with the instinct over protecting Angel. It's a weird type of feeling to be responsible for someone, even though they aren't yours to watch over. I love Angel but she isn't my child, and she causes some issues. I can't tell if this call for responsibility is out of love, or to the fact I'm told to do so.

There, I see Angel picking herself off the carpet and smiling warmly to the woman helping her up. The girl has a part down the middle of her skalp, having half of her hair dyed purple and the other section blonde. Her eyes are as green as the vines of roses, and her little stumble looks funny when she tries to pick Angel up in heels. She's pretty tall for a girl -- most likely without her heels.

But, God...her face looks odly familiar. Haven't seen a beautiful, genuine face like this one in years; the last one belonged to my first love and childhood friend, Caity Babcock. I typically try to shove her out of my memories to prevent past pain, but right now I can't put it away. The draw of files in my head which I call my memory, has been blown up and trashed so it can sink in my thoughts.

Right now, I have to keep my cool though.

"Need a hand? I think I'm the one in charge of this little girl," I say in a laid-back, 'chill kid' type of gesture. I lean my back against the water fountain, and give a little grin to Angel.

The girl glances at me with her eyes, as she lifts Angel up into her skinny arms. "You 'think' you're in charge? You don't sound so sure, Mr..?"

"Tree," I inform. "I'm basically Andrew's other half in the work force."

"I see. Tree must be a popular last name, don't you think? I've heard it a couple times throughout my life," She questions again, bouncing Angel up to make sure she doesn't fall onto the floor. "I don't know anything about who works with Andrew. I study my own Empire's politics. David won't let me get to deep into yours."

"I don't necessarily know anybody else with my name, besides me, Caity."

Caity.

What is the word that just came out of my mouth?

She knits her eyebrows in concern, than slowly places Angel on her feet. She adjusts a strand of loose hair behind her ear, and continues to glare at me. "How do you know my name, Mr. -- Hayden?"

It's her.

"Caity..." I murmur, running my fingers through my hair and taking small steps towards her. "I didn't think it was you.."

Her eyes stay glued on me like her lids are help up by plasture, and her lips gently part in awe and shock of my presence. You can see her rosey cheeks blaring through her makeup -- and I know she isn't wearing blush because her aunt always told her to pinch her cheeks instead of wasting your cold cash, ever since she started to experiment with beauty at 10 years of age. I guess she forgot to re-aply her pinches instead of pinching pennies.

I shake my head from side-to-side gently, in order to snap myself back into 'dad mode.' I have completely forgotten that Angel is standing between the two of us. I don't want to try something, and have her little eyes witness it. (I know she would snitch to Andrew too, if she saw me kiss the journalist from Black.)

I tap Angel's shoulder lightly; and once I get her attention, I stoop down towards her to whisper her in ear. "You should go meet up with Sam outside and keep watch for more Black members to help her with. She would really appreciate it."

She does a assuring nod, than hugs my leg tightly with her scroney little arms. I feel bad for making Sam responsible for her, but I've waited for this moment for half of my life. Angel waddles off to the front door, and leaves as she calls Sam's name.

"Y-you didn't need to do that," Caity stutters, referring to making Angel leave. Her hands are shaking as they are folded tightly together in anxiousness.

"Yeah," I mumble, taking a couple small steps closer to her. "But I wouldn't be able to do what I want. What I've been waiting to do with you, Caity."

I unfold her hands and gently intertwine her fingers with mine. I'm too anxious and nervous to discover her reaction; so I just keep a close focus on rubbing her knuckles with my thumb.

"H-hayden you're gonna get in t-trouble," she warns me with a voice laced of fear. "I'm not worth it."

"What do you mean? You're my Maybelline girl because you're worth it," I say to her; making myself chuckle along to my little joke. I slowly place my hands on her cheeks when I see her smile, too.

"I guess it's worth it.." she mumbles.

That's all I need.

I press my lips softly onto hers and smile. This is bringing me a lot of nogalstia; reminding me of the times we spent as young kids. We had our first kiss before we even reached double digits; but I'm not sure if it counted because we were only playing make-pretend.

I miss the times when people were people, and where we we're told to live in harmony. Race, religion, gender, and weight was not something you would judge a person by. We grew up in that perfect world together; where the cog and crown shined it's true colors. Now it's just a symbol stitched into our flags; reminding us of who we used to be.

I kiss her deeper and grab her waist softly. I don't feel any regret or guilt at all right now. She's not some random girl who I hooked up with on the streets: she's Caity Babcock.

And I know i'll pay for this crap later.

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A/N

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