Disclaimer: Lost Girl is not mine and all that.
Author's note: my English is quite good (all modesty move to the left, please!), but it is not my first language. I gave my best, promise.
I don't know what got in to me. I was just standing there, watching. I think I tried to intervene for a moment there, but that weird sheriff stopped me. How could I not want to intervene? There were two Whitmans and they both had guns. You? You had a knife. Not even that pretty a knife or that proper a knife, more like a kitchen knife. Are those good to throw? I don't even know. What I do know, however, is that I felt the panic rising within me. I think I believed, even if for just a second, that that was the last I'd ever see of you, alive. And that thought broke my heart.
But then you turn around and the knife's flying out of your hand and I hear a loud stamp and there's Whitman lying on the floor, with the blade through his heart. Was he even physically there? Did he have some sort of invisibility powers? How could you have known he was behind you?
I have no idea and I'm shocked just for an instant because then... Then I don't know what got in to me. I think it was relief. I felt as though all the burdens of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. Suddenly I was no longer Tamsin, I was no longer a Valkyrie, I no longer had a purpose or a history. I was just standing there, looking at you and you were still alive. Alive. Because you are smart and you are fast and oh, you are definitely so much cuter than Whitman was.
When you turn to me with that radiant smile of yours, your eyes sparkling with the joy of an almost unexpected victory, something inside me snapped. Maybe it was the sudden shift in the atmosphere? All the tension was gone. Or maybe it was just you being you and me forgetting my place in the world. In your life.
It was so fast and so slow. I felt my legs moving out of their own volition and I'm kissing you before I bump into you and when I taste you I can't help myself, I want more of this, I want all of it, all of you, so I bring my hands to your face and then I move one hand to your waist to pull you closer and all of a sudden both your hands are on my arms and what's better, you're not pushing me away: you're kissing me back.
Wait, you're kissing me back? Reality comes back to me in a crushing wave and I open my eyes and pull my lips away from yours. Your eyes are closed a tiny bit longer and when you open them, you stare at my mouth before you finally look at me. And when you look at me, I desperately hope you don't see the fear I'm feeling because as much as I've come to think of you fondly and maybe even like you, I can't be doing this. I can't get attached to you. I can't go through this sort of pain again.
You look surprised. Not in a bad way. It just shows that kissing me was the last thing you expected to happen in this crazy-ass adventure we got dragged into. There's even an hint of shock in your expression and if I were somebody else, I'd be tempted to draw conclusions from all of it, your kiss and your reaction, but I'm me and whatever this was, the moment is gone already.
To your credit, and my relief, you come to your senses before I do as Hanna approaches us babbling about the gatekeeper. You start walking and I trail behind because I can't talk to you now, not just yet.
Right now all I can do is feel my lips tingling and the weight of the world settling back on my shoulders.
