trace your steps, there's no mistake
Title: trace your steps, there's no mistake
Fandom: LOST
Summary: There is a canyon in the kitchen, a river bed beneath it.
Pairing: Ben/Kate
Rating: PG-13
Notes: A is for antagonist; for knopflergroupie.
Kate remembers fingers that played across her stomach carefully, too carefully. She remembers tired hands and arms and she remembers slick red wine that spilled on the carpet.
(guilty, guilty, guilty)
There's a memory buried deep of them on the beach, his lips split and eyes narrowed in the sunlight. She doesn't remember him staring at her legs, but she remembers how she watched him walk away.
(this is the fork, here, for you)
Ben hasn't changed, but Kate reasons that that's because he was never what she thought he was. His breathing is even and regular and she watches his chest rise and fall in the baggy white tshirt he wore beneath a starched collared shirt the night before.
(all of this, for her)
She slides out of bed because there is no better way to sneak away from someone in her own house. Aaron is still asleep, Claire's been gone for months. There's a hole somewhere in the house that she's been afraid to fall in, but now thinks she just might jump - just for the hell of it.
(there is a canyon in the kitchen, a river bed beneath it)
Hugo wants to check on all of you.
And that's your job? Kate smiled over her glass, cheeks red and feeling drunk. Ben gave her a sheepish grin and nodded.
I suppose so, yes.
(Hurley's little watch bird, flitting from here to there, singing her a song)
Ben walks into the kitchen, dressed and disheveled, peering around at things he didn't notice before, running his hand along the rich wood of her table.
Ajira? She nods, stirring oats in a pot for Aaron. Ben's arms hang at his side, his back bent forward every so slightly. Finally, he straightens, pulling on his coat.
You're going? Kate feels panicked. Loneliness runs deep inside her. Any cure feels like relief from a fever. She doesn't want to lose it just yet.
She kisses him, trying to make him stay, pulling him into the morning light of the kitchen. He buries his face in her neck, his hands in her hair.
(this isn't what she bargained for, not the man she was supposed to have)
He spends one more night, pressed heavy against her.
In the morning he leaves and the words she wants to say get caught in her throat.
Ben doesn't say goodbye. There's a quick kiss planted on her forehead, and a small hand on Aaron's head. And he's gone.
Kate saves the seat at the table for him. She recognizes her life as a novel, words playing out across infinite pages. She places Ben as the antagonist, so she misses him less.
But she waits for him to come back anyway.
Fandom: LOST
Summary: There is a canyon in the kitchen, a river bed beneath it.
Pairing: Ben/Kate
Rating: PG-13
Notes: A is for antagonist; for knopflergroupie.
Kate remembers fingers that played across her stomach carefully, too carefully. She remembers tired hands and arms and she remembers slick red wine that spilled on the carpet.
(guilty, guilty, guilty)
There's a memory buried deep of them on the beach, his lips split and eyes narrowed in the sunlight. She doesn't remember him staring at her legs, but she remembers how she watched him walk away.
(this is the fork, here, for you)
Ben hasn't changed, but Kate reasons that that's because he was never what she thought he was. His breathing is even and regular and she watches his chest rise and fall in the baggy white tshirt he wore beneath a starched collared shirt the night before.
(all of this, for her)
She slides out of bed because there is no better way to sneak away from someone in her own house. Aaron is still asleep, Claire's been gone for months. There's a hole somewhere in the house that she's been afraid to fall in, but now thinks she just might jump - just for the hell of it.
(there is a canyon in the kitchen, a river bed beneath it)
Hugo wants to check on all of you.
And that's your job? Kate smiled over her glass, cheeks red and feeling drunk. Ben gave her a sheepish grin and nodded.
I suppose so, yes.
(Hurley's little watch bird, flitting from here to there, singing her a song)
Ben walks into the kitchen, dressed and disheveled, peering around at things he didn't notice before, running his hand along the rich wood of her table.
Ajira? She nods, stirring oats in a pot for Aaron. Ben's arms hang at his side, his back bent forward every so slightly. Finally, he straightens, pulling on his coat.
You're going? Kate feels panicked. Loneliness runs deep inside her. Any cure feels like relief from a fever. She doesn't want to lose it just yet.
She kisses him, trying to make him stay, pulling him into the morning light of the kitchen. He buries his face in her neck, his hands in her hair.
(this isn't what she bargained for, not the man she was supposed to have)
He spends one more night, pressed heavy against her.
In the morning he leaves and the words she wants to say get caught in her throat.
Ben doesn't say goodbye. There's a quick kiss planted on her forehead, and a small hand on Aaron's head. And he's gone.
Kate saves the seat at the table for him. She recognizes her life as a novel, words playing out across infinite pages. She places Ben as the antagonist, so she misses him less.
But she waits for him to come back anyway.