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Katherine walked away from him, one foot clicking against the hard footpath after another. The sound echoing in the distance between them. She swallowed hard. She knew he wouldn’t follow after her. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t believe her. But she was a girl. So she had to hope.
She hurt with each step. She hands felt empty without the cure. Her ideas of freedom gone in one pathetic, pointless gesture of love. But her chest was what hurt the most. It ached at the thought of never touching him again. Of him, never again being hers. Elijah watched her walk away, as he clutched the cure in his hand. He expected at any moment she would turn around and made a Katherine move for the cure. But she didn’t. With each step she was becoming more and more Katerina. Because under everything else she was his Katerina.
With a flash Elijah was across the distances. He grabbed her hand and ripped her around to face him. His lips crushing against hers before she could speak. He pulled back to looked her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She didn’t say anything, worried she’s say the wrong thing and he would turn away from her again.
“You better not be playing me,” he chuckled, but there was a seriousness to his words. He knew how stupid it was to trust Katherine Peirce but when he looked at her, all he could see was his Katerina. She nodded and slowly reached out and touched him. Ever so lightly letting her fingers touch his cheek, even though she wanted to grab him with everything she had. She wanted to feel him close to her again. But she knew better. She knew he would take it the wrong way. So she held back. “I’ll,” he started when she pressed her finger to his lips. She shallowed hard, knowing he wanted to talk about Klaus and the cure and everything else that was against them.
“Not today,” she said, letting her hand drop back to her side.
“I have to talk to Klaus,” he said and she shook her head again, taking a deep breath in.
“No,” she said with a little more focus. Every part of her feared Klaus and so every part of her screamed the opposite to her words. “Tomorrow,” she said. If she was going to die. If Klaus was going to kill her. She didn’t want regrets. She wanted one night. One night to remember who that innocent, human girl called Katerina Petrova was. She wanted one night to be myself with Elijah. Elijah ran his thumb along her cheek and she curled her face instinctively into his hand with a smile.
“I love you Katerina,” he breathed and she smiled.
“And I you,” she breathed and she had never felt more free in all her years.