(no subject)

[slybrunette]

Title: Not How She'd Pictured It
Fandom: Lost
Character: Kate. Mentions of Sawyer.
Prompt: #28 - Disappointed
Word Count: 611
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kate looks at her relationship with Sawyer. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

 

Kate wasn’t sure how she’d imagined this working out when she first got herself into this mess. She knew there needed to be something more than physical attraction for a relationship to work, but she had convinced herself that she loved him. That if she gave this a chance then maybe they could develop something deeper. Now she knows she made a mistake on that day three years ago when she turned and ran with him.

 

The others think she did too. Not that she ever much cared what other people thought, but the survivors were like family to her, and as much as she tried to not let it get to her, it did. It was in the look Jack gave her as she turned away from him. It was plainly displayed on Claire’s face every time she visited, her eyes immediately dropping to the long, slim fingers of Kate’s left hand, and finding nothing decorating them but the occasional nude nail polish. See even saw it in Hurley’s eyes, the way his smile fell slightly when he caught a glimpse of Sawyer in the next room, the time he stopped by. Pity.

 

It wasn’t bad at the beginning. It never is. They bought a place, an apartment, in Chicago. She changed her name. They both got jobs. Nobody knew who she was, or what she’d done. And she was so happy with that prospect that she didn’t need anything more from him than she was getting. The chemistry was there, it always had been. Sex with him was exactly what she thought it would be. Hard. Fast. Rough. Good.  But there was always something missing, she just chose not to think about it.

 

Only a few months passed before things life went into a downward spiral. They were low on money. Neither of their jobs were cutting it anymore. And then he was gone more and more. She didn’t ask him where because she already knew the answer. He had fallen back into old habits. She could smell it on him when he came home one day, the smell of Chanel No. 5 everywhere, his skin, his clothes. And then they suddenly had money.

 

Non-coincidentally they moved out of their apartment, and into a bigger one in Chicago right afterwards. She hadn’t wanted to, and if she hadn’t already known where the money had come from she might have spoke up. They had to leave so that nobody came after him. So she made the move and wrote it off as a one time thing. It was never brought up by her, and he never made any mention of it either.

 

Now as she lies in bed, alone, at 4am, she knows it was not the last time, because he’s with another woman right now. Every night this week in fact. And she doesn’t think it’s only for the money this time either because she can’t seem to look at him without feeling sick to her stomach at how far gone they are. The physicality of their romance that was undoubtedly present earlier on is gone and the emotional aspect of it never developed. They haven’t had sex in four months. But she can’t bring herself to stray because that means admitting failure, saying that everyone else was right.

 

In the end, she just rolls over, the sheets sticking to her skin in the humidity, and tries to tell herself to go back to sleep, that everything’s worse at night, and it’ll be better in the morning. She just can’t help feeling disappointed that it had to turn out this way.