Omg. I've updated!
Not gonna lie, though - I'm not completely satisfied with how this chapter turned out, which is, like, the stupidest thing considering how long it took me to bang it out. Anyway, more notes at the end. Onward~
Instead of going to eat at the nearby diner King and Vanessa ended up staying at Illusion, where they grabbed some whimsical snacks and settled at a small table near the back of the area. King listened intently as Vanessa chatted about a variety of different topics, including her life as a housewife, her kid, and a weird occasion where she nearly got into a brawl over some cookware at her local Target. As amusing as it all was, King couldn't help getting the distinct impression that she was hiding something, though she had no idea of what it could have possibly been. Nevertheless, the conversation was beginning to slow, which meant it was only a matter of time before Vanessa started asking King questions about herself - a prospect that made her intensely nervous despite how much alcohol was in her. She poked at her sorbet and tried her best to hide her anxiety over having to spin some tall tale about how great things were, but she didn't think it was working.
"Man!"
Vanessa blew a strand of crimson hair out of her face and took a sip of ice water.
"I have done nothing but talk your ear off this whole time! Sometimes I start and don't know when to stop. Anyway! How have you been?"
King hastily stuffed a huge spoonful of sorbet into her mouth to buy herself a little time. Obviously she couldn't tell Vanessa how she was actually doing; she had to think of something that wouldn't give away how seriously awful things were for her as of late. She swallowed the frozen dessert hard and exhaled.
"I've been… good," King started. She nodded her head slowly. "Really… really… good."
Such a fucking lie.
"Just 'good?'" Vanessa prodded.
"Just good," King replied. She took another bite of food while trying to act as casual as possible.
"Hmm. You've never been much of a talker, huh?"
"I'm just not very interesting."
"What?!"
At that, Vanessa slammed her hands flat on the table and leaned slightly forward, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"You're a cross-dressing bartender who uses Muay Thai to kick ass! I'd say that's very interesting!"
"I don't know about that."
"I do! I bet there are all sorts of cool things happening with you!"
"Not... really..."
"You're telling me that someone young and gorgeous like yourself has nothing going on?"
King felt heat creeping into her cheeks as she took another bite of sorbet. Despite her somewhat bedraggled appearance, Vanessa thought she was... "gorgeous?" Vanessa thought she was gorgeous?! (And interesting?!)
"It's all just very…"
King trailed off as her thoughts suddenly wandered to her night in the ER after… that. The x-rays, the morphine… the pity in everyone's eyes.
"... mundane."
Vanessa frowned. She took another sip of her water before speaking again.
"I hope I'm not out of line, but you seem… I dunno. A little down...?"
"No - not at all!"
There was a pause as Vanessa looked King over. She placed a hand on her chin and squinted at her, obviously deep in thought.
"I know what it is," she declared after a moment.
"...You do?" King asked, equal parts curious and horrified. The logical part of her knew that there was no way in hell Vanessa had any idea of what was going on beneath the surface, but the other part of her - the paranoid, self-doubting part - was convinced that the woman across from her could see how utterly disgusting, weak, and useless she was. King gripped the spoon in her hand, took a bite of dessert, and braced herself.
"It's boy trouble!"
Taken aback by Vanessa's answer, King almost spit out the sorbet that was in her mouth. The very idea of "boy trouble" was aggravating as hell! Why would anyone automatically assume that her woes were connected to a non-existent love life?! Especially now?!
...Then again, when she really broke it down - simplified it to its core - "boy trouble" was technically kind of where a lot of her issues originated. She drove her spoon through the center of the frozen mound in front of her, a little bothered.
"It's not a boy," she said quietly, through gritted teeth.
(More like a monster.)
"A girl then?" Vanessa asked point blank, though her tone was cheerful.
King flushed, not entirely surprised by Vanessa's question-slash-presumption, as people had a tendency to think she was the most aggressive lesbian to ever lesbian. Of course, that wasn't exactly the case, and though she was "out" she never made it a point to talk about or display her sexuality.
"N-no," she stammered. "I'm… I'm not…"
"Oh! Sorry," Vanessa told her with a grimace, "I thought maybe you were…! I have a bad habit of making assumptions about people."
"Well, I mean… I'm… I play for both teams."
Vanessa smiled, noticeably relieved, but King could have sworn there was something more behind it. She averted her eyes; the wine must have been making her see things.
"So? Is it girl trouble then?"
"I'm not seeing anyone," King answered quickly.
"Now that! Is interesting!"
"Why...?"
"Why do you think? You're a catch!"
King made a face: She was a damaged, sleep-deprived liar who couldn't defend herself against the most pathetic of leg-breakers, which didn't make her a catch by any means. However, the fact that Vanessa thought she was made her feel something she couldn't really identify. Good? Nervous? Embarrassed? She honestly didn't know.
"Th-Thanks," King mumbled. "You're… not so bad, either!"
...Dumbass.
Vanessa laughed then - a real, genuine laugh - and it was somehow akin to angels singing.
"Well, thank you for saying that!"
"I'm being honest," King asserted. "You're stunning!"
"Awww -" Vanessa sipped her water - "You're so sweet!"
"You have no idea."
King pressed her lips together, instantly frustrated with herself for making such a bizarre statement, but also a little bewildered by what Vanessa had just said. She didn't think she had ever been referred to as "sweet" in her entire life; it was kind of weird. Céc Levasseur: Sweet. It just didn't sound right.
It was still sort of flattering, though.
"...You don't think so?"
"Not particularly," King admitted as she began twirling her spoon between her fingers.
She took a deep breath; she needed to stop making such stupid comments or else Vanessa would begin to see the cracks in her facade. She chanced a quick glance across the table and was met by a piercing gaze that she was absolutely not expecting. As a result she dropped her spoon; it bounced off the table and landed on the floor with a loud clang.
King swore under her breath as she leaned down to pick up the utensil. What she didn't realize was that Vanessa, too, had moved to retrieve the spoon: their fingertips touched, which made King's heart skip a beat, but also elicited a weird fight-or-flight response; she instantly recoiled, which caused her to smack her head on the table as she scrambled to bring herself upright.
"PUTAIN!"
"Are you okay?!"
Vanessa stood up and rushed over to King, who was so soul-crushingly embarrassed she could barely stand it. Could things possibly get any more awkward?!
It was as if the Universe heard King's inner thoughts and considered that last one a challenge: Before she had a chance to react, Vanessa's hands were on her head and in her hair, presumably feeling around for any swelling.
"It's a little red, but there's no bump or anything," Vanessa observed. "Here, look at me."
King held her breath as Vanessa placed a hand under her chin and gently raised her head so she could get a better look at her face, which made her pretty sure she was going to fucking die. This was not the way to get close to a beautiful woman.
"Your pupils aren't dilated, either."
King didn't know what to do or what to say or where to look. She pressed her lips together and made a sort of low humming sound in response.
"Your eyes are such a lovely shade of blue."
The off-handed remark caused King to quirk a brow. Eyes? Lovely? What?
"They-they are?"
"Yeah! Everyone usually has light or bright blue, but yours are almost sapphire! I never noticed before."
"Fuh - family trait," King stammered.
"Well, they're very pretty." Vanessa removed her hand from under King's chin. "So! You're not dizzy or nauseous or anything, are you?"
"I'm fine."
King furrowed her brow while she rubbed her head. She looked down at the floor, uncertain of what to say next.
"Hey, do you want to share an Uber?"
"What?"
Vanessa chuckled as she pulled her phone from her pocket.
"We've both had a couple of drinks," she said while scrolling through her apps, "And you just clocked yourself pretty good. It's probably not the best idea to drive."
"Oh. I was just going to walk."
"Alone? This late?"
"It's not a big deal," King answered nonchalantly, though she was actually screaming internally. "I do it all the time."
"You, Miss King, are much braver than I am."
King didn't reply. Her relapse had sent deep seated fears about being out at all hours of the night to the forefront of her mind: Thoughts she had spent years suppressing, be it through sheer stubbornness, or, more recently, therapy techniques, came screaming back in full force. As a result she had spent the last two weeks avoiding closing shifts at all costs (though she had forgotten to account for her mid-shifts, which typically ended around ten PM). Not that it mattered, though: she had been abducted at gunpoint in the middle of a bright afternoon, in a good neighborhood, with plenty of bystanders around. Walking alone at night didn't make her brave - it made her stupid. (Or crazy, but she wasn't going to touch that one.)
"Hey, are you okay?" Vanessa inquired. "You look a little pale."
"I'm okay. I'm -"
The text chime on King's cell phone went off before she could finish speaking. Curious, she dug the gadget out of her pocket so she could see the message, which was from Mai. All it said was, "SOHF! ! ! ! ! !"
King looked down at the screen, puzzled. What the hell was "SOHF" and why had Mai used so many exclamation points? Before she could give it too much thought another message immediately came in, and was comprised of nothing but emojis: a smiling face with drool coming out of its mouth, a tulip, and a tongue.
"Tu te fous de moi?!"
King all but shouted at the device as the meaning of Mai's strange acronym hit her like a ton of bricks.
"Is everything alright?"
Vanessa peered down at King, her face screwed up with concern.
"Everything's fine," King croaked, her voice a little higher pitched than normal. She hastily crammed the phone back into her pocket, flustered, and jumped to her feet. "I should go!"
"Are you going to be okay though? That was quite a hit!"
"Yeah, I… ...wanna - do you wanna walk with me?" King impulsively asked. She instantly regretted saying anything, but she couldn't stop herself from talking:
"You can catch a ride from my place. It - it's not far. I mean… if-if you want."
"I'd love to," Vanessa answered enthusiastically.
King was both elated and mortified. She tried to smile but she had a feeling that she probably looked like she was in some kind of pain more than anything. Nevertheless, she motioned for Vanessa to go ahead of her: The older woman obliged, and King couldn't help watching her hips sway as she walked. She covered her face with both hands as Cherry Pie once again started looping in her head.
"Qu'est-ce que j'ai fait," she mumbled under her breath.
###
"This is it…"
After a largely uneventful stroll that consisted of minimal small talk, King opened the door to her apartment and flipped a nearby light switch, illuminating the open space. She made a face as she looked around. Normally very tidy, her residence had definitely seen better days: Unread mail and shopping bags full of non-perishable items that needed to be put away littered the entryway and dining room table; bow ties, cuff-links, and earrings were scattered all over the place, and the coffee table was covered in empty candy wrappers and various papers. For some odd reason a fleece throw and a pair of cat hair covered pants were strewn across the floor, which needed to be vacuumed.
Depression was a hell of a drug.
"This is a big place," Vanessa said while she looked around at the chaos, "You live alone, right?"
"Sometimes my brother stays with me," King replied. "On weekends or school breaks depending on my schedule."
Just then King's cat ran up to greet her as she emptied her pockets, meowing loudly as he approached. She immediately stopped what she was doing so she could scoop him up and cradle him like a baby.
"Salut, Marron!" She pressed her forehead against his and sighed. "Tu m'as manqué…!"
"Awwww!"
King pulled away from the cat to look at Vanessa, who was wearing a delighted grin.
"Sorry. I've just never seen this side of you," she said, "It's cute."
"Thanks…?"
The reality of having Vanessa in her apartment hit King hard while she lowered Marron onto the floor. Her nerves began to go haywire, and, as a result, she strongly considered another glass of wine. Three in one night was probably really excessive, though. However, a glance at her guest sent her straight to the kitchen, where she snatched a half full bottle of rosé from the fridge.
"Would you like something to drink?" King called as she grabbed a wine glass from the cupboard.
"I'm good, but thanks," came the reply.
King quickly poured her beverage; she took several huge gulps in an attempt to calm her nerves before heading to the living room, where Vanessa had settled on the couch. She sat down next to her and awkwardly took another sip.
"This is a really comfortable sofa," Vanessa noted.
"My bed's even better," King responded without thinking. Her eyes widened and she began to turn an almost obscene shade of pink. Had she really just fucking said that?! Of all the stupid things she could have blurted out, it had to be something that could absolutely be taken the wrong way! Vanessa was probably about two seconds away from punching her out. King held her breath as she hesitantly placed the glass on the coffee table.
"You know, I've always admired your honesty." Vanessa fixed her eyes on King, who was bracing herself for a haymaker.
"It's refreshing. My husband and I… our marriage has been full of so many secrets and lies. It was only a matter of time before it all came to a head."
"Secrets and lies," King repeated dully.
"It gets exhausting - the lack of honesty," Vanessa went on. "But you've always been really straightforward, and I admire that."
King was almost positive she was going to go into cardiac arrest at any second. It was clear that this woman was on to her. She started to reach for her wine but Vanessa grabbed her wrist, stopping her dead.
"Wha -?"
"How much have you had to drink tonight?"
"Two glasses."
"Counting this one?"
"...Two and a half."
There was silence as Vanessa moved King's hand away from the glass. Their eyes met, and King felt a tightness in her chest that made her feel like she was about to implode. She furrowed her brow; the last thing she needed was to have some sort of panic attack because a beautiful woman whom she was extremely attracted to was sitting in her apartment, looking into her allegedly very pretty eyes.
Without warning Vanessa kissed King, and King - who was completely taken by surprise because since when was Vanessa into women?! - started kissing her back, and she didn't know if what she was doing was even right because taking a break was not the same as being divorced but it didn't matter because she was suddenly on her back, and Vanessa was right on top of her, kissing her passionately while reaching under her shirt.
King, meanwhile, moved almost as if she was on autopilot: she momentarily placed her hands on Vanessa's waist before sliding them down to what had to be the most perfect ass in all of existence and pulled her closer. Her mind raced: Was she really doing this?! Was she really going to do this?! Did she even want to? Vanessa pulled away to kiss her neck and in that exact moment the answer to those questions was a resounding yes. She let out a low, somewhat embarrassing moan (she hated how she sounded during certain… activities) as Vanessa continued to work at her neck while moving her hand down the side of her body, her fingers warm (and maybe even a little ticklish) against King's skin. She lingered on her waist for just a second before unclasping the button on her jeans.
"Relax…!"
King's breath caught in her throat as Vanessa gripped her waistband and began tugging her bottoms down. However, the second the fabric began to slip past her hips something in her mind snapped - but not in a good way. The last time any of her clothing had been removed by somebody else it was forceful and violent. A torrent of horrible memories abruptly rushed back: the things he said, the smell of his cologne, the feel of him as he tore her to shreds. She quickly pushed Vanessa away and scrambled to her feet, panicked.
"Whoa! What's the matter?!" Vanessa asked, alarmed, from her place on the sofa.
"I can't!" King shook her head back and forth. "Ican'tIcan'tIcan't…!"
"I'm sorry! Was I -?! What -"
"You need to go," King interrupted tearfully. "I'll pay for your Uber…!"
"What?!"
Vanessa jumped up and carefully approached King, who instantly backed away.
"I didn't… I don't understand," she said, "I thought you wanted to…?"
King was unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a coherent thought in English. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to breathe, but she felt unbelievably nauseous. She wrapped her arms around herself as Vanessa stepped toward her once more.
"Hey," she started gently, "It's okay. We don't have to do anything like that. We can just talk. Okay?"
King hung her head; tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped onto the carpet.
"You're okay, King. It's okay."
"Non! Ce n'est pas okay," King wailed, practically hysterical.
"Hey…! Hey, it's fine," Vanessa said in a soothing tone, "I'm not going to… hurt…"
King looked up at Vanessa - and instantly wished she hadn't. The other woman was looking at her with the same goddamn look everyone else had given her when it happened.
"Did something… did somebody hurt you?"
King let out a choked sob and nodded.
"Oh my god…! I'm so sorry! I didn't -! If I had known I would have never -"
"Please go."
"But I don't wanna leave you like this…!"
"Please," King whimpered.
Vanessa, clearly at a loss, peered at King with borderline infuriating sympathy and left without a word.
As soon as the door closed King completely broke down. She sank to her knees, sobbing hysterically. She was so angry, and frustrated, and ashamed, and confused, and all sorts of other things she couldn't pin down. As she pushed her hair out of her eyes her fingertips brushed against the small scar on her forehead - yet another jarring reminder of the incident. She rose from her place on the floor so she could retrieve her cell phone from the table, her vision blurry from the tears that wouldn't stop coming. As much as she didn't want to bother anyone she knew that if she kept this to herself it would eat her alive. She opened her Favorites list and waited while the phone rang and rang and rang until -
"Bb?" Mary Ryan's concern-filled voice issued from the speaker. King could practically hear the frown on her face. "Bb, what's the matter?"
King unsuccessfully tried to steady her breathing, but no matter what she did she just couldn't stop herself from crying.
"I-I'm freaking out…!"
Listen.
I don't know what you expected, but, like... this probably wasn't it, was it? Anyway, some notes:
* In KOF XIII King mentions that they serve sorbet at Illusion (versus Kula).
* If you're new here, you should know that King's real name in my continuity is Cécile Levasseur. Or Céc for short (which plays on the canon "Sis" her brother uses to address her.)
* Putain = Fuck
* "SOHF" = Sit On Her Face. Special thanks to jojoDo for the acronym.
* Tu te fous de moi = Are you kidding me
* A lot of King's fears about walking alone are a result of her fight against Jack Turner's Black Cats prior to the events of the first Art Of Fighting. Check out A Profound Impact for the deets on that event, which her therapist has resolved to help her work through.
* Qu'est-ce que j'ai fait = What have I done?
* Marron is French for brown, so it's safe to assume that the cat is a brown tabby. Also, "tabby" is not a breed, it's a colour pattern.
* Tu m'as manqué = I missed you
* I hope that the irony of Vanessa's statements about truth and honesty throughout this tale haven't been lost on anyone. Remember, she's leading a double life as a housewife and secret agent.
* Non! Ce n'est pas okay = No! It's not okay/Nothing is okay
Okay, that's it for now. Time to wait another forty-six years for me to update again. Where's it gonna go?! Bold of you to assume that I even know. See you next time!