CHAPTER FORTY FIVE: Change

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The mere thought of losing Killer in any way scared me to death, and I frantically shook my head.
"Never! You mean the world to me!" I insisted, placing the onion down and grabbing his arm. "I just...I had literally no idea you felt that way, because I'm a colossal moron! I feel horrible about just getting up and running off after it, and I'm so so so so so sorr-"

Killer, using the hand that wasn't occupied by the knife, reached up to pet my head, just as he always did.
"Don't feel bad about it. That was the initial plan, after all." He spoke with little emotion, but there was a gentle lull to his voice that was pretty rare to hear. "Can't say you're not a moron, though. Why else would I have pinned you against the wall the way I did?"

Thinking back, it suddenly made so much sense. Had I really been that dense? Releasing his arm, I stood there almost shamefully, just watching as he returned to cutting onions.

"I thought you were just teasing me..." I confessed, embarrassed at the memory now that I knew the real reason. "I mean, I do care about you, so freaking much, and if-"

"If things were different you may have responded in another way. I get it. You don't have to explain it to me." He sniffed, the sound slightly muffled by his helmet.
"Yeah, but it'd be nice if you actually let me finish a sentence." I muttered, if only a little salty about being cut off yet again.

"Go flip the beef for me if you insist on this little talk." Killer motioned towards the grill, and I scampered over to do as I was told. I liked helping him with the cooking, anyway.

"I just...don't want you to think that it's you, because it's not. It's entirely me. I do love you, it's just-"
"Don't go throwing that word around, girl. It's too heavy." Killer spoke over the top of me and I snapped the tongs in his direction.
"Oi. I said no interrupting me."

Killer lifted one hand in defence, but the move of his head told me he had rolled his eyes.
"Yeah yeah, my bad. Go on, if you have to..."

Sometimes I forget he's the one who raised Kid...That attitude grew from somewhere...

"Like I was saying...I do love you. I know how heavy that word is, and I mean it. It's just, there's something about Kid that...Actually, I don't know what it is. I just...know, y'know?" So much for getting to a point. I had no idea how to convey things with words and it showed.

"I know." Killer replied, muttering something under his breath as he sniffed and tilted his head back. "This fuckin' thing does nothing to stop the fumes, dammit..." He readjusted his helmet a little, and while I watched I caught sight of his mouth, and the unnaturally dark tint of his lips that bordered it.

"You wear lipstick, just like Kid." I commented on it before I realised, immediately praying that he wouldn't get upset about me seeing part of his face. Once he finished readjusting the helmet, Killer turned his head to me.

"Where do you think he picked that up from?" He almost scoffed, picking up the full chopping board and carrying it over to the large, bubbling pot. "Only difference is that I got mine tattooed eventually. He's been procrastinating, but honestly? I think he's never gonna do it."

I was honestly excited. Not just because I had caught a glimpse of a fraction of the man's mysterious face, but that I was learning more about him, and Kid, for that matter.
"Did it hurt? It looks really cool." I asked, eager to hear his answer.

Returning the chopping board to its place, Killer approached me, plucking the tongs from my hands and bumping me a little with his hip to get me to step aside.
"Of course it hurt, but thanks. I always liked the look."

At least it's not awkward anymore. For now.

I still felt horrifically guilty for how things had panned out. Aside from the very beginning, Killer had always been the one to look out for me, and make sure I stayed safe and healthy. He was a good man, through and through.

"I don't want things to change between us." I murmured, quieter than I had anticipated it coming out, but even over the sizzling meat, Killer heard me.
"I already told you, they don't have to. It's entirely up to you. Both you and Kid are important to me, and I'm content with how things are."

But are you happy?

I wanted to ask him that, but I decided against it. Just like I was, he was an adult who could make his own decisions. It wasn't my place to pry, and potentially make things harder.
"Good...I'm glad. You're important to me too, Killz. Really." I smiled, stumbling a little out of the way when one of the chunks of meat hissed a bit too loudly for my comfort.

"It means a lot to hear that." Killer spoke almost as quietly as I had, and there was, just maybe, a bit of a smile to his voice. "Now go on, get out of here and tell the guys dinner'll be ready in about fifteen, twenty minutes, tops. Stragglers get the grill grits."

Giving him a hearty salute, I started towards the door, pausing and turning back for a quick moment before I left.
"Oh, uh...Killer? I haven't told Kid about, um, what happened...I don't want to cause any tension between you two..."

Killer just waved over his shoulder, focusing on dinner with his spared hand on his hip.
"That's your decision, though at least for now I think it's a wise choice. We both know how possessive he can get."

Humming in complete agreement, I gave him one last glance before I headed on out of the galley, picking up Missy on my way up the stairs and interrupting his existential existing time, squishing him close to my chest.

Okay...I'm glad...Now that I know I won't lose Killer, things can finally be how they're supposed to be..!

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***I'm really sorry if this chapter is sub-par, boring, or just poorly written.

My cat passed away this morning. A man working on pipes at my next door neighbour's house came over and told me he found her dead under their house. She had been kind of unwell the past few days, but she had been eating and breathing fine, just a little lethargic. She was only just shy of 4, as far as we knew. A feral stray I took in about 7 months ago.

I'm not in a good place, because she was essentially my emotional support companion, and I can barely hold myself together at the moment. Writing was the only thing I could think of to distract me.

Next Time: Are You Insane?!***

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