33 Apocalypse Ave, Monday Morning

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When Kathy had woken up as herself on Sunday, there'd been a letter waiting for her--a letter she'd remembered writing the night before and six years younger.

Dear Kathy,

Thanks for letting me use my room during my stay. I don't think I'll have a chance to meet you, I'm leaving pretty early tomorrow to make it back home. But even if I didn't get to meet you, I still feel like I got to know you some this week. You sound really cool and smart and popular. Everyone was really nice to me and I think it's because I reminded them a little bit of you. I think that's cool, I wouldn't mind being like you when I grow up.

This might be weird, but do you think I could maybe email you sometimes for advice? Nothing major just--you have your whole life together and I'm a mess. It would be nice to have someone to talk to sometimes. But that's probably weird, sorry. You don't have to!

But if you do, you can email me at gymnastflower01@yahoo.com.

Thanks again,
Kathy Li

P.S. You really, really don't have to if you don't want to!

Kathy had read that letter a number of times over the last day, smiling at the old email address she'd used faithfully for years--hell, her original Tumblr handle had been GymnastFlower--and awash in nostalgia. On the one hand, no wonder Sparkle had nicknamed her Mouse; it felt like all she'd done as a kid was apologize to people and blush. On the other hand, it was interesting to see her life now through the eyes of herself then. She'd laugh herself silly if someone told her that she had her life together, but she could see where her younger self had gotten that idea.

If nothing else, it put some things into perspective, which was sometimes hard to come by these days.

[Open for visitors and calls, but with the caveat of 'after I wake up again!']

Comments

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"And cooooool," Kathy teased in a singsong. "You said so and I'm going to remind you about it forever."

She was feeling a little...fragile, maybe? Like the ghost of the girl she'd been was still hovering around her, turning up her emotional sensitivity to eleven. But just being around Dante was helping to ease that, to help her find an even keel.

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"Fine, do that," Dante said. "And I'll call you a fucking nerd, fuck."

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"Better than a celibate one," Kathy retorted. "I've been both and trust me, the fucking makes everything waaaay better."

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"You're lucky I like you being a fucking nerd," Dante decided, and leaned in for a real kiss.

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Which conveniently stopped her from pointing out she wouldn't be here if he didn't, so, really, the kiss was the best possible choice all the way around.

Besides, Kathy needed that kiss. She clung to him, a little more aggressive than a good morning kiss normally called for. And, for once, not even to start anything--it had been far too long since she'd had one. That kiss helped slot this in as real, a reminder that this was her life now, not a tiny apartment in K-town.

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Dante, for his part, was happy to slide his hand into her hair and remind himself that this was really Kathy, his Kathy, and not some tiny kid who was way too polite and had way more on her mind than a teen should.

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God, Kathy liked this life and this version of herself so much better. It felt almost like a betrayal sometimes, like it was a tradeoff that had required her to lose her family to gain, but she couldn't deny it was true.

She got to kiss one of her boyfriends without fearing what her father would say. She got to wrap a leg around him and slip her tongue inside his mouth without worrying about how her mother would say she was 'ruining' herself for a suitable husband down the line. She got to make as much noise as she wanted to into that kiss without stressing over her little sister hearing and setting a bad example.

She was free and even if it was a freedom that hurt, after five days of feeling just how tight those strings had been around her, it was hard not to revel in it.

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"That's my girl," Dante murmured against her mouth, moments later, when they both needed to breathe.

His hand had settled on the back of her head. Another, on the back of her... well.

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If his hand hadn't ended up there, she would have had to put it there herself.

"Goddamn right," she said. "It's weird, being the little one this time. Usually I remain an adult and end up taking care of everyone else."

She was pretty sure she liked that better.

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"Guess the island decided you needed someone taking care of you for a change," Dante said.

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"Pretty sure you've been doing that for the last solid year," Kathy said, curling up against him. "Still, all your questions about what I was like before you showed up? Varying degrees of that, from the bad hair and terrible clothes up through the inability to go more than a sentence or two without apologizing."

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Dante kissed her cheek. "You just needed to snap outta that," he said. "Glad you did."

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"It's weird, what not feeling like you need to apologize for existing will do for you," Kathy said. "I was happy enough, I guess. Or content, anyway. It was all I knew, so I called it good. But I couldn't live like that again. Not for long. Not and still be me."

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"I don't even know what that would be like," Dante mused. "Everyone else just wanted me to stop existing, so I started existing just to spite everybody else."

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"My parents were ready to stomp out any spark of rebellion or spite they saw, before it had a chance to take hold and spread," Kathy said, shaking her head. "I had to leave home for three years before I could grow enough into my own person to not be lost as soon as I went home again."

She laced her fingers with his and chuckled. "What do you think thirteen-year-old you would have made of thirteen-year-old me? Nothing flattering, I'm guessing."

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"Probably would've tugged your pigtails a lot," Dante said, fond. "You were cute."

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"And I would have been caught between being thrilled by the attention and wanting to bite you every time you did," Kathy said, laughing. "I'm not sure which would have won out. Possibly feeling really giddy while I bit you and not understanding why."

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Dante snickered softly. "That's my lil' chompy."

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Kathy laughed first and only then thought of the zombie association. It still cut off her laughter, but it was better than it had been. She didn't want to cry, for one thing, or worry that it was a subtle dig.

She'd laughed first. She was clinging to that.

"You like it when I bite," she reminded. "Maybe I would have started that whole kink for you. Who knows?"

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"Hey, I'm not arguing with it," Dante said, kissing the top of her head. "Love the biting."

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"Good, cause it's here to stay." Kathy leaned in and nipped his throat. Shut up, bad brain associations. You weren't the boss of her. She would bite her boyfriend anytime she wanted.

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Dante let out a soft sigh, his fingers sliding up into her hair. "Mmkay."

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Kathy's eyes fluttered closed as his hand found their way up into her hair. That always felt good, whether he was just letting the strands fall through his fingers or winding it tight around his fist. "Feel like you understand me a little more now?" she murmured.

...Not that he ever hadn't, not really.

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"Nah," Dante said, pressing a kiss against her cheek. "I already knew that stuff. Just sucks harder seeing it."

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"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "Still, the funniest thing of all of that was how I would have sworn I was happy."

The kind of happiness a caged bird felt, but still. Happy.