Ethan & Abigail
Christian & Tara
“Sammy could never quite get his tie right,” Kat muttered, her voice barley above a whispered.
The sound made Christian flinch, as though something heavy had been slammed onto a hard surface, shaking the air and ringing through his ears. The quiet stillness in Kat’s voice was foreign and uncharacteristic. It was wrong. Kat was not a quiet person. She did not whisper or speak in hushed tones. Kat bellowed and squealed, she yelled and sang. When Kat spoke, waves of vibrancy crashed through the air, illuminating everything and calling attention. There was nothing quiet about Kat.
“You look nice,” he swallowed, his eyes drinking in her dark dress and neat hair.
The sight of her bleak clothing and tame hair made Christian’s eyes itch uncomfortably. Kat was stripped of her usual bright colors and flashy accessories. The obnoxious neon and glaring sparkles were no where to be found.
Kat had always been loud, even in the way she dressed. But she was not loud anymore. She was quiet, heart-breakingly quiet. Christian felt as though he should look away. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t look away from her sad blue eyes and pouting pink lips.
“Ethan could never get his tie right either. I learned to fix it for him,” she began, walking towards Christina purposefully. She stopped in front of him, her body closer to him than it had been in what felt like months. “I like tangling things, creating a mess. Knots are sort of beautiful in a way, like a wonderful mistake,” she continued.
“Kat…” he started, his voice low and thick. She began to work his tie through her fingers, looping the material in and out. Her breath was hot against his neck and he resisted the urge to rest his palm against her hip.
“Sammy was pretty good at making messes too, you know?” she mentioned, her eyes focused and determined. “From the very moment I met him, I knew we would be friends. The kind of friends that could make a mess of their entire lives, but never make a mess of each other,” she breathed, adjusting the knot back and forth.
Christina reached up and covered one of her hands with his own. She paused, sucking in a breath and stilling her eyes. He gripped her hand firmly, staring at her until she finally raised her eyes to meet his own.
“I’m sorry that things between us are so difficult right now. But, I’d like to be there for you through this. If you let me,” he uttered calmly. She blinked quickly, her eyelashes fluttering and her eyes snapping downward.
“I miss him,” she whispered. “I try to pretend that he’s on a holiday or something but, I still miss him. Every five minutes I think of something new that I want to tell him or ask him,” she admitted.
“I miss him too,” Christian nodded, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.
“I feel so lost and so angry, and so sad. And Sammy is usually the person I go to when I feel that way. But now…” she sniffed, her eyes shining.
“You can come to me,” he offered sincerely.
“I can’t,” she scoffed quietly.
“Why not?” he challenged.
“You know why,” she snapped, her words lacking the sharpness she craved.
“You came to me now,” he mentioned.
“Sometimes it’s easier to just give in, to just forget all of the hurt,” she admitted. “But sometimes it’s harder,” she added weakly.
“I need you in my life Kat,” he pleaded softly.
“I will always be in your life Christian. If losing Sammy has taught me one thing, it’s that we need to keep each other close,” she rested one hand against his chest, fingering the material of his shirt idly. “I just don’t know how close is too close,” she muttered.
“Maybe there’s no such thing as too close,” he offered, resting a hand against her hip and nudging her closer. “I think you might have taught me that,” he smiled softly. She bit her lip to hide a grin before reaching up and cupping his cheek.
“We’ve come a long way,” she noted, recalling the first time she had cupped his cheek, and then the second. The way he had tensed beneath her touch, and then later the way he had almost leaned in to it.
“We have,” he agreed. “And we have a long way to go. But you and me, we’re going to be okay Kat. I know we are,” he insisted gently. She looked at him for a long moment, searching his eyes and finding only honesty and familiarity. Stepping forward once more, she turned her head to rest between his shoulder and his neck. She curled her fingers in the material of his shirt as he clutched her against him tightly.
“We’re going to be okay,” she repeated quietly.
“Would I lie, sir?” - Kat Karamakov, Dance Academy s1e1
9 favorite pictures of Dena Kaplan
Sometimes I really do love to watch Abby dance C: