Tomorrow people storyline:
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" John had to restrain himself from actually shoving her he was so angry. She was holding her already bruising cheek with one hand, the other balled into a fist by her side. "Answer me, Katrina!" He yelled, slamming his hand against the wall near her.
She visibly flinched, her eyes on the ground.
It was a good thing the lair was empty at the moment or else they would have an audience.
A few seconds of tense silence passed before he opened his mouth again, only to be cut off by her outburst.
"I don't know, John! I don't know," she raised her voice at first before it dropped and she couldn't meet his eyes anymore. "Sometimes I just-" she searched for the word, "forget."
John's brows furrowed, unsure if he'd heard her correctly.
"Forget what?"
"I forget about my powers."
He took advantage of the moment, tilting her chin up,
"let me see it," but she still couldn't meet his eyes, flinching back when his cold fingers touched her tender cheek. "Looks pretty bruised, probably not broken. How do you forget about your powers?"
She blinked at his total 180 in attitude, resisting the urge to close her eyes and just listen to him talk. She really just wanted to sleep. The day had been emotionally and physically draining and everything hurt and now John was making her heart flutter and she didn't want to deal with it.
She let out a breath, glancing up at him, which was a bad idea because his eyes were already searching her face.
"I just forget, ok?" Was her quiet reply. Her shoulders lifted in a sad shrug before she carefully stepped out of his reach. "I'm gonna shower."
When she was finished she felt clean and very sleepy. Her hair was soft and slightly damp, body scrubbed smooth from the day, the smell of cocoa butter and soap lingering on her skin.
It was mostly an accident. The halls were dark and the rooms were next to each other. She opened the wrong door. Well, actually, she bumped into it first. Then opened it. John was- he could already be in bed or he could be up still, drying off from his own shower.
He actually shaved. He's sitting at his desk working on something when she fumbles with the door before walking in. Her bare legs have goosebumps on them as she lopes towards his bed, thinking it's hers. His brows shoot up,
"Katrina?" He asks, standing up, catching her when she trips over her own feet, pitching forward into him. A soft laugh comes out of her mouth.
"Johnny boy," is her reply, her hands gripping the material of his shirt. "I'm tired, Johnny boy" she pouted up at him, "you're not allowed in my room." Her pout quickly turned into a scowl and john scoffed.
"And you're not allowed in mine yet here we are." She rested her forehead against his chest, already comfy.
"M Sleepy, Johnny." He nodded, letting out a sigh of defeat.
"I know, Katt." He picked her up in his arms easily, walking her to the bed and gently placing her under the sheets. He let go and she made a noise of complaint, her main source of warmth leaving. He sat down next to her.
"You can't be serious. You'd murder me in my sleep."
"Johnnys warm," she stated in a sleepy daze. "Sleepy Johnny" she repeated, finding his hand and tugging at his fingers in a very childish manner. He bit back a smile.
"If you get mad at me I'm going to hold this over your head, you hear me?" Her only response was another tug on his hand. With a bigger sigh, he proceeded to climb in next to her, more than surprised when she immediately curled into him, her nose just touching his collarbone, making goosebumps appear over his fair skin.
"Night, Johnny boy." a shiver rippled through him as her lips moved against his skin. He swallowed, his arm tentatively wrapping around her before settling quite comfortably. He let out a breath.
"Gnight Katt."
~
In the morning? I feel like she would be passed out, though. And he would wake up with her in his arms and not be weirded out because it felt good, it felt natural; they were good together.
The first thing he notices is the bruising on her face. It's pretty bad. Bright purples and blues.
He's inches from touching her cheek when she stirs, eyes fluttering open to meet his. He fought the urge to smile at her. Her eyes were slightly puffy, cheeks flushed with color. Why had he never noticed how long her eyelashes were before? Or how full her lips were? Ridiculous.
He wasn't sure if he would have to remind her that this was her entire fault. She let out a breath.
"my entire fault, I know." She said softly, her hands playing with the collar of his shirt, eyes focused on the white material. "Sorry,"
He frowned, not expecting that right away. What was he supposed to say to that? What could he say to that? He shook his head, the movement making her look up.
"You snore cute." Her nose immediately wrinkled
"I most certainly do not." He smiled at her
"Only a little." She pokes his chest, blinking slowly once she noticed his clean-shaven face. "what?" In the time she'd spaced out he's managed to lean in, their noses nearly touching.
"Nothing..." her cheeks dotted with color and she glanced down trying to escape.
"Ok," he shrugged and then nuzzled his nose against her neck, noting her sharp inhale; the hesitant reciprocation of the movement a few sweet moments later.
