Part 2 of 3

When I am alone with her, she motions for me to take the spot you now left empty. It's still warm from you. I don't know if she notices it, but her fingers, particularly the thumb and the forefinger, play with the top half of the crucifix absentmindedly. I wonder if she's talking to God. I wonder at how she can still remain religious and constant while living with you. She is silent, that pretty pink mouth reminds me of the doll I had as child.

"He's… He's slipping away from me." I curse myself for the first two drops of tears to come down my cheeks even before I've had the chance to compose myself. I hate that I'm so emotional all of a sudden when just last night I let my body do the languishing and that exsanguinations of the loneliness I had been feeling by seeking the warmth of your body even in the carnal act of sex. The tears have flooded through my walls and I sit before her weeping openly, weeping for the loss of my love, of my virginity, I wept over the times that would never be again and I mostly wept for the pathetic state I had been induced into. My shoulders are shaking and I am hiccupping, taking large breaths while she sits there calmly.

I can tell she wasn't expecting this because a look of surprise comes and goes, why is it that every emotion the two of you have is as fleeting and erratic as the beating of a dragonfly's wings?

"I'm sorry." Kathryn replies, standing up to move across the room. I can't help but stare at her the way I do you, you really are both used to this life, this power over people, this influence you have… Her hips swayed slightly and the clicking of her heels across the floor is sharp and crisp. When she returns, she places the box of tissue beside me and I mumble my thanks before taking a few to clean myself up.

"I thought… I thought he loved me… He said he had never felt happier with anyone else than… than… hic… than he was with me."

For some reason, she pinches the top half of the cross at my sentence before it loosens again. Her face is sympathetic to my plight, but her body is still stiff and straight. I've heard of stories from Mrs. Caldwell regarding Kathryn's mother and looking at Kathryn now, I can only find proof that maybe Bunny's words were true. It was rumored that as a child, Kathryn would have her lower back hit or slapped quite painfully when caught slouching. I even heard that there was this one time when she had been five and Tiffany had had to take her alone one of her charity events since her nanny was gone; she'd had to pee so badly but she couldn't find the bathroom and she was afraid to get lost, she tried pulling on her mother's hand but she was only met with a silent look of warning at her behavior. Finally, she tugged harder and with her short legs crossed together, she nearly cried out that she had to pee.

Everybody had laughed at this and Tiffany only smiled quite painfully before escorting her daughter inside. The child had an angry handprint on her cheek afterwards and she remained still throughout the entire day.

Kathryn hands me another piece of tissue and I gratefully take it, brushing it against my eyes. Her poise amazes me, but if those stories about her childhood were true, I would gladly not be as poised as she is.

"He said that."

It was more of a statement said in a flat tone but I dismissed it as a sign of her impatience with me. After all, we certainly weren't close and I can imagine her confusion when I asked to see her, but she can help me.

"Y-yes… Please Kathryn, do you know anything about why he's been acting strange? Is he seeing someone else? Sebastian told me he had changed… I don't…"

I started bawling again like a child. I felt an awkward patting on my shoulder and was surprised to see that she was doing this in an uncomfortable manner. At least she isn't entirely poised, right?

"I'll talk to him about it." She promises, glancing discreetly at her watch. I get the idea and profusely apologize, saying I know how busy she is and that I was thankful for her help. She gives me a strange smile that I couldn't comprehend before holding up her cross.

"Just turn to Jesus and he'll make you feel better…" she replies thoughtfully, playing with the top half of it again. Did that just unscrew or am I still too teary eyed?

"It's what I do." She adds as an afterthought, a secret grin ending the sentence. "It always works."

She seems to be rather fond of rosaries and I remember having one in my purse that had been blessed by the Pope. I want to give it to her as a sign of my gratitude and meant to do so. I give her a big smile which she returns widely, she promises she would keep me informed on her brother and that just between the two of us, she approved only me amongst all Sebastian's former girlfriends. I leave that room and go back into Sebastian's where I took minutes finding my purse. How did end up under the bed?

It didn't matter. Already I was beginning to be filled with idealistic hope that she will be able to talk some sense into you. She's already quite close to you and I hope that her opinions would sway your decision, maybe she'll allow you to see that you shouldn't take me for granted the way you have. As I push the door open, it does so without a sound. I see that you're already back there with your book, but this time you and Kathryn aren't reading. She's talking to you in a low tone, and I freeze, hiding behind the shelf. She must be talking to you about me! Oh, she is a wonderful woman to have as a friend! I feel the rosary in my fingers and I want to give it to her now more than ever. She is a saint, that Kathryn.

You're listening to her with rapt attention, wholly transfixed on her eyes and you didn't look like you wanted to be anywhere else. I envy the closeness she has with you. Finally, she finishes talking and she lets out a laugh which you do so in return as well. I don't know what you're laughing about, but I know that it isn't me. She wouldn't laugh at me, she understood my plight…

"I have to go now." She announces, standing up and throwing the magazine of the coffee table with a loud smack. "I have a date."

As her front is facing the door, my mouth drops open at the scowl that suddenly darkens your face. It was the unmistakable look of annoyance and jealousy. Now I really envy her for that, but at the same time it endears me to you more. The fact that you can be so close to your stepsister and be a protective, affectionate brother melts my heart but then again, it always freezes when you address me in indifference.

"He doesn't deserve you."

She smiles at your bitter tone but you don't see it. Her face is filled with warmth again, but it was the kind of warmth that was tinged with that untouchable look that seemed to never leave her.

"Nobody deserves me, Sebastian." She replies, picking up her purse. "I just make due with what I have."

"Wrong." You stand up and the book on your lap falls to the floor. It's one of your beloved first editions, the ones that you took great care of and now it's lying there open and the pages becoming creased.

She was rifling through her purse, obviously looking for something. "What?"

You notice that she is distracted, her brows are knitted together in concentration and the next thing you do not only squeezes my heart as though it would burst, it actually did.

You wrap your arms around her from behind and you bring your face close to her neck, nuzzling her skin. You look so at ease with her, and once again the green monster that has become my dear friend visits me. Your hands encircle her waist, palms resting on her stomach and she stops rifling through her purse.

"I suppose this is your way of telling me that you think you deserve me?"

"No."

She smirked, turning her head so you were able to stare at her, which up until now I realized you always liked to do. "Glad to know you're still rational, Valmont."

"I don't 'think' I deserve you, Kathryn. I know I do."

And the illusion shatters before my eyes. I hear the way you said it, the firmness of your hold on her, I felt the softness in your voice, your velvet mouth brushing against the shell of her ear as you whispered it loudly with such confidence.

I don't know which body part to attend to. You have begun to look blurry because of the salty liquid you've caused to fall down my cheeks and my hands have begun to grip the very same token of friendship I meant to give your stepsister. It's pressing against my skin so deeply I wonder if the impressions will ever leave, this is too much. To have your heart broken, to have your idea of the perfect relationship snatched away from you… it more than hurt. It was painful. Soul painful. I let you into my body and you walked away with everything I had.

You bring your mouth closer to hers and as soon as they touch, even I felt the heat in the room. It was heat and electricity and mouths on each other, fighting, grappling, bodies wrapped in passion and burning the two of you alive. I had expected her to pull away, to push you indignantly for doing that to her, but instead there's a slight sigh from her throat as she returns the kiss eagerly, her hand reaching up to touch the side of your face. She manages to turn around, never breaking from your mouth. In fact, she seems to display the only real feeling I've ever seen her display during my moments of brief observation of her. The sound of mouth touching mouth, of lips and tongues adoring each other, the sound of your lips trapping her bottom lip and the sound of you pulling away from her slows the beating of my heart. I know how you look when you're aroused, and you are right now. There's a fire in your eyes that seems to match Kathryn's and yet behind that lust lay something else… but what? What do you mean when you look at her, never wavering, never laughing…you were just… so… fixed on her, and I had never seen you look angelic as you did at that time. There was some sort of purity in that gaze, in fact, if you took away that mischievous glint that would never leave in your irises and looked in the mirror, you'd probably see it too.

You look like a child staring at the Christmas gift you begged and hinted for wrapped in a shining silver crinkling paper with a green bow on top. All silvers and emeralds, I saw it sparkle in your eyes. I saw the smile you tried to hide from her.

"You know there are times when your overconfidence amuses me." Kathryn spoke first while you assessed her with that keen, hungry stare of yours. You seemed to drink in the sight of her, the petite stature and lips slightly swollen from your kissing. Your hands leave the small of her back and rub down her shoulders, this time the kiss you place on her forehead is not brotherly.

"It's not overconfidence if it's the truth." You reply in return, a thumb caressing her mouth while you fail to see the way Kathryn's eyes light up and you certainly fail to see the same contented lazy smile you tried to hide from her earlier appear on her face.

"Smug bastard."

"Coke whore."

These words are scathing in nature and I recoil at the offhanded way you both say it to each other. Was this your own brand of affection?

She tangles her fingers through your hair, her fingertips rubbing back and forth your scalp. This strangely looked simple yet intimate, and you give a low murmur of approval when she kisses you on the cheek, her mouth hovering inches away from your skin.

"Tell me again how it ended." She whispers in your ear, biting teasingly on your earlobe. I see you shiver and lose your composure slightly, but you reply by caressing her ribs through the thin garment of her clothing. "Tell me, Sebastian."

"It doesn't matter." You respond breathlessly when the touching between the two of you dangerously becomes sexual, her hands have left your hair and have begun to unbutton your shirt.

"But…" she protests in a smoldering voice that burns through even me. She leaves the shirt open but her lips begin to seek yours once again. You reach out for her but she pulls back, placing small, open kisses along the column of your neck, going up to your chin, slow and torturous but that golden haired head of yours rolls back, and it was clear that unlike with us wherein you were always the one dominating, you both vied for control and it suited you. You're breathing heavily now, the pleasure apparent in your closed eyes. Kathryn finally reaches your face, inching closer and closer to your mouth…

I should leave, but I can't. My feet are permanently glued to the ground because of my horrible curiosity.

"It's my favorite story…" she continues, grabbing the back of your neck to tilt you back to her. "Please…? I love hearing it… tell me…"

"She doesn't mean anything to me."

Her hand slips under your pants and she starts pumping it slowly, licking your lips before pressing her cheek to yours.

"Continue." She breathed.

"I thought I loved her but I got so bored for a while…" she must have squeezed you because you gave out a guttural groan of bliss, it was obvious that she was getting a kick out of your cruelty and even then I knew you were talking about me. What a fool I was to have thought that she could help me when she was the source of my being a subject of ridicule!

"How was the saint in bed?" she bites your shoulder, her own face is flushed. Your hand moves on its own accord and cups the underside of her breast, the thumb tweaking the hardened bud.

"Bearable… oh, God… Kathryn… fuck…"

"What about me?" she asks in a little girl voice radiating of innocence yet her eyes spoke otherwise.

"What… about…" you groan when she takes her hand back, disappointed at the loss of contact. "You?"

She licks her lips, looking beautiful especially in wanton. She presses her chest against yours, rubbing her groin against the apparent bulge in your pants, when she allows you to capture that elusive, teasing mouth of hers, everything seemed to explode and become reborn at the same time. How can you kiss her that way? I envy how you do that to her, how every space of your mind seems to be only full of thoughts of enjoying and pleasuring her.

You nearly hold yourself back, I can see your eyes close tightly as you pull her tight against your chest, crushing her with the ferocity of a passionate man craving for something I don't know (because you never let me in). Finally, as she rests her chin on your shoulder, you suddenly look like you actually are seventeen as opposed to the omniscient handsome bastard you are. I see your vulnerability in the tightness of your hold, the flurry of emotions bright and clear on your expression.

"If I tell you something, will you not be a bitch about it?"

You ask this in such a hopeful tone that I want to reach out to you even though you were breaking my heart. Kathryn looks up, surprised but nods in silence, for once the sarcasm is gone.

"I love you."

I can almost laugh and cry and envy the sweetness of the surprise on her beautiful face, but I can tell she doesn't trust you. I don't blame her.

"Are you serious or is this another one of your twisted games? Have you and Tuttle bet on whether or not I'd say it back?"

You blink and release her, but she's too busy staring at you to check for your lies.

I'm too busy crying because all I see is the truth.

"No." you answer in defense, sounding cold and hollow.

You're hurt and disappointed at her reply, but you try vainly but determinedly not to show it. The lust is gone now, deflated by the resounding echo of a silent rejection. You begin buttoning your shirt, trying to find something to keep you preoccupied, to keep the feeling of being watched by those eyes out of your head.

She still hasn't spoken and the lack of sound is filling with tension. Kathryn, for her part, has her mouth dropped open. If you and she had had sex before, it was clear that it hadn't been about emotions in the past.

"Have a great date with the idiot."

I can feel the bitterness again. I want to laugh out loud at your situation, see what you replaced my feelings for?

"I'm not going to say it back, Sebastian. I can't, it isn't in my nature to do so."

"I didn't expect you to."

You're picking up the fallen book and trying to smooth the creases you caused. The door is what you're headed for right now even if you don't want to leave, you can't stay there. I feel apprehensive and almost head for the open door when her voice cuts through the silence. It is a stranger to all the three individuals present in the room, her reply was quiet in nature yet it emanated that power she inherently held within.

"But it doesn't mean that I don't."

You stop short of the short distance you've walked, the same look of surprise on your fair one's face now on yours. You turn to her, unsure of what you've heard but I heard it all. I saw it all.

It hurt.

It really fucking ached.

You place the book down and approach her, looking cautious. "Do you really?"

Your face is slightly red and so is hers. You're burning, the both of you. You're burning in your personal mixture of heaven and hell.

I'm already composed of ashes.

You stared at each other for minutes, trying to read the other's thoughts through the slightest movement of your bodies if there were any. Finally, the ice around her melts first and she smiles faintly, looking not like her yet luminous at the same time.

"Don't let it get to your head; I have been known to change my mind."

With that, she slips her small hand into yours. It seems to be another act that astonishes you, but the happiness in your heart is overflowing since it breaches your walls and rules of constant indifference. The way you look at her is how I wanted you to look at me, intent and adoring, intense and powerful, dark and soul carving and so much more only she will probably understand.

"I guess I'll have to make sure you retain your constancy then, Ms. Merteuil."

You're so happy you're smiling.

I'm so disillusioned I'm shaking.

And Kathryn… She's watching you with that same secretive, amused smirk of hers. With a slight tug, she pulls you down the couch with her and you comply without complaints. I can tell you're still shocked by her earlier response because you still have that dazed look in your eyes. You only get that when you awaken in the middle of the night from a particular dream and you're not sure if this is still part of it or not. I know it and she knows it, because then she completely lets her guard down.

You seem to soften, every limb turns into jelly as soon as her head rests on your shoulder and she plays with your hand thoughtfully. This is the most I have seen her, and apparently it was a rare sight to watch her like that because it really is amazing. I'm envious and bitter, the color of her eyes seems to overtake the clear blue ones that I had.

"I still have to go on that date, you know." She reminds you, her green eyes staring at your joined hands.

You nod, brushing your lips against her temple.

"It's unfair." You add almost petulantly while she gives you a rare smile.

"It is, isn't it? We're always supposed to get what we want."

You, for all your charm and eloquence, couldn't find the proper answer for that. Kathryn's façade is completely gone now, and yours has begun to fade away as well. If the truth is told, at that instance you both looked completely the opposite of impermeable. You looked so tired and she looked ages older than what she really was, as she moves closer to you, I can almost feel the blood rushing to my head in anger and spite but I can do nothing except watch.

And hate.

And envy.