manipulative | deerington contact.

[ is suggesting he walk supposed to make her feel better?

she doesn't want to leave, and that comment only has her digging her heels in even harder. she arches her brow incredulously and stares down at him like he's grown a second head. did he forget that he passed out at least three times in the last hour and a half alone?

with her tone sharp and firm, ] You just got shot. You're not walking.

Then, I'll take a cab. Or I'll compel someone here to drive me home. Just —

( he doesn't know how to make it so she's not standing there looking like she's going to explode. he's seen her look uncomfortable and angry before but never like this.

he sighs, trying to figure out some way to either help her or get her out of here so she can breathe. )

I can do it. I'm healing now.

[ she really, really does not want to leave. but her gut's telling her maybe stefan needs her to. maybe he doesn't want her looming over him while he's uncomfortable and in a vulnerable position of being in a hospital bed after having not healed for a good portion of time. maybe he doesn't need some psycho threatening the hospital staff if he so much as doesn't like his jello.

god, she hopes he doesn't eat any of the food here. the vending machines look like they haven't been refilled with anything decent for decades.

forcing herself to relent, she shifts on her feet and looks at him pointedly. ] If I find out you walked home, you're going to wish you were dead.

[ so, take a cab, a car—hell, even a bike. she doesn't care as long as his feet are not walking. ]

I'll see you in a little while, Katherine.

( she has such a great bedside manner but he's used to katherine so it barely bothers him. he knows she's worried and he wants her to have some time to breathe, to get her thoughts together while he's not there. )

Take the car, take a ride, and I'll see you soon.

( he promises. )

[ she hesitates in leaving, but she does end up pivoting on her foot and walking out of his room. she doesn't really know what one is meant to say to a friend who's survived a gunshot wound that he should've healed from immediately, so she doesn't say anything at all.

before she walks out of the hospital, she compels at least five different staff members to linger out near the foyer to ensure that one stefan salvatore doesn't think to walk home. and if they do? well, she's pretty sure amputation without anaesthetic is a pretty good threat even without mind control. it's worth the pounding migraine that lasts for the entirety of her drive home.

she doesn't feel better being back at his house while he's still at harren hospital, but katherine gets to work in trying to clean up some of the blood from the backseat of his car. it's not the best job of disinfecting that she's done, but that's stefan's fault for having a bloody tiny sportscar.

she at least cleans with both of her flats off, left discarded at his front door where they're also sporting some drops of blood. katherine doesn't get changed and she doesn't scrub hard at her face to clean herself entirely of his dried blood. it's in the lifelines of her hands and smeared in her hair, and she's pretty sure she can still taste it if she presses her tongue to the corners of her lips. it's far easier to clean the inside of his house, from the blood on the staircase to his bathroom and what droplets he's left as a trail from the front door to his bedroom.

she wants any signs of giuseppe salvatore gone from his house. it's too bad she doesn't bother with his bedroom door.

when he finally hauls his ass back home, she's filling up his bathtub with hot water and too much disinfectant. she has his bloodied bathroom rug in her hands. she's going to clean this sucker because she likes his goddamn rug and she refuses to toss it out as she did with his shredded shirt. ]

( stefan does try and walk home but he's stopped by at least five staff members who refuse to let him. he could, he thinks, overpower them and go but he realizes that katherine's compelled them to stop him and he sighs.

he ends up calling a cab after a few moments and about twenty minutes later, he's on his way back to his house. he's not sure what to make of katherine just leaving without a word, if that means she's angry with him or not but he's glad she did leave and he hopes the quiet gave her some time to settle down.

when he steps into his house, he smells cleaning solution immediately and he sighs. it doesn't take him long to locate katherine in the bathroom. he's still walking slightly slower than usual, letting his wounds heal the rest of the way. he's even compromised with the doctors and left bandages on both bullet holes to aid in the healing process.

he leans against the door frame and sighs again. )

Katherine.

Stefan.

[ turning, she says it a little brightly. she'd known the moment he'd pulled himself out of his cab and had walked inside of his house. he's hard for her to miss, even more so when he's injured.

she does feel infinitely better that he's no longer in his hospital bed and that he's here. is that so wrong?

letting her eyes run over him, he looks far better than he did when he first left this house. the colour's returned to his face, even though he could have a bit more... and he's at least standing upright and keeping himself that way, too. maybe he should sit down, but... he's a big boy, he can make up his own mind. briefly, she wonders just how much of a fight he put up with those bandages. ]

Did you walk?

[ she knows he didn't. ]

No, I jogged.

( of course he hadn't walked. she'd probably heard the cab pull away before he was in up the stairs and in the house. his eyes flick past her to the tub before he looks at her. )

You don't have to do that.

( he can clean up tomorrow or he can hire someone. he doesn't want her to think she has to clean up all of his blood. )

I'm going to change but you don't have to clean, okay? Just — ( he shakes his head. ) Just relax for tonight.

[ the bath's already a quarter of the way full. what's he going to do? step around her and pull the plug out? ]

It's my favourite rug, Stefan. There's nothing wrong with letting it soak.

[ and consequently be one of the very last things she's completed in his now less-bloody house. she has forgotten the cold pizzas in his kitchen.

it doesn't matter if he wants her to relax. she's fine. she didn't get shot by her dead father and then fail at healing. he's the one who should relax. isn't he feeling a bit bruised? she doubts his healing has kicked in to be that good.

turning away from him, she turns his taps off and places his rug into the bath. she pushes it all the way down to the bottom of the tub and watches as the clear water turns red. ] You should go lie down.

Yeah, sure.

( he watches her for a few more seconds, trying to read her and figure her out but she's impossible to read when she wants to be. and right now, she's hiding from him and he doesn't have the energy to fight her.

so, he takes her advice and pushes away from the frame. he closes the door to his bedroom once he's in there, pulling off his hospital given gown and changing into a dark hoodie and a softer pair of pants before he crawls into bed and lays down on his side.

he listens to her movements for little while before he does close his eyes when he thinks she's just going to keep cleaning. )

[ katherine stays in his bathroom for a lot longer than she needs to. she hears him move about until he stops moving, and his breathing seems a hell of a lot better than it was previously. she busies herself with scrubbing a little at her face and wiping the blood from her forehead and hairline, but she doesn't get all of it off. she's not feeling particularly motivated to be entirely vain right now.

this time when she invites herself into his room, it's not with a powerful shove of her shoulder. she opens it and glances up at it to see that she has done some damage to it, and she leans her back against it. when she looks at him, he at least seems comfortable—a little peaceful, especially in comparison to how his face had been scrunched up in pain or very, very slack. ]

Do you need anything?

[ while she may not know how to do this, she at least doesn't struggle in asking that. ]

( his immediate instinct is to tell her no. he doesn't need her to wait on him and make sure she's okay. he's fine, he's always fine and he's always going to be fine. she'd done so much earlier that he can't bring himself to ask her for anything else.

except — )

Katherine.

( he starts to say something else but stops, wetting his lips and pressing his face down further into the pillow. he doesn't know his eyes. )

That's what I need.

( he mumbles it, barely above a whisper but he knows she'll hear it. katherine that's what he needs. )

[ at first, katherine isn't entirely sure if he's lost his train of thought or considered that halfway speaking that what he wanted isn't what he wanted. but then it clicks for her what he's asking.

she doesn't immediately push herself off the door, but she doesn't turn and run into his hallway and out the door, either. she wants to. even though he's giving her exactly what she's wanted for so long, having it right in front of her makes her want to get the hell out of there.

she doesn't.

pushing herself off the door, she comes to stand on the side of his bed and looks down at him. reaching down, she brushes her fingers very lightly through his hair.

very quietly, ] I'm covered in blood.

[ still not as vain as she could be, but she's very aware that she's still a mess while he looks a little cleaner than he had before—which is good. stefan pale, clammy and drenched in blood is not a sight she wants to see ever again. ]

I don't care.

( she was covered in blood because she'd tried to save his life. how could he care what she looked like?

he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning up and into her hand for a moment. )

You can take a shower if you want or...not. I don't care. You look fine to me.

[ she doesn't know why she's looking for a reason to keep bumbling around his house and wedge distance between them when she had intended to get very close to him tonight. katherine doesn't pull up his blankets or lower herself to lie down next to him. ]

I'm getting one of your shirts.

[ which will now become her shirt. she walks over to his drawers and closet to rifle through his clothes to find the perfect shirt for her. she would've preferred the one he had been wearing, but now that it's going into the trash, she needs to pick another one. one of his brownish plaids will do. ]

And I'm going to keep it.

[ just in case he needed a belated reminder of the thing she will refuse to acknowledge after tonight.

katherine starts to undress, pulling her sticky top off. she really should be tossing this pile onto his bathroom floor, but she doesn't particularly want to leave his room now that she's here. a part of her wonders if he'd want her to. there's nothing particularly unusual with the lacy black bra she wears, but when she pulls her dark jeans off, she's wearing a black garter underneath with stockings that cover her upper thigh all the way down to her ankle.

pulling his plaid shirt on, she buttons it up as he walks over to him casually. it's almost like she doesn't remember (or doesn't care about) what she had been wearing underneath. ]

( she might not care or remember what she'd been wearing but stefan definitely does. he hadn't known what she'd do with his words but when it looked like she was going to join him, he'd relaxed somewhat but he hadn't dozed off again.

his eyes had remained open and he'd watched her through lidded eyes until she'd taken off her jeans. then, he'd woken up a little. katherine was definitely someone who would match her underwear and she was someone who would wear fancy and lacy things on a normal day but this was different.

this wasn't normal. she'd worn this, he realizes, on purposes. his mouth goes a little dry and his eyes open a little more. )

Katherine.

( her name is a whisper, low and needy, especially as she gets closer to him. )

Oh my god.

[ if he was a giant, his shirt would be long enough to reach her ankles. fortunately for them both, he's not—she can button his shirt up, but it won't exactly hide her stockings from view. katherine's buttoned it halfway up her body when she looks at him. ]

What?

[ she at least looks a little concerned. if something's happening internally... she really doesn't want to hop in his car and drive him back to that hospital, especially not when he looks snug as a bug in a rug in his bed and she's starting to feel a little tired and rundown from this evening's series of unfortunate events. ]

Are you dying again?

[ she has a very good idea that he isn't. his heartbeat isn't slowing into a shallow rhythm, even though his breathing has clearly started to.

he'd said he wanted to see her lingerie, and katherine decided tonight was as good of a night as any to show off at least one number. did he really think she wanted to actually sit back and eat greasy pizza like they were actual platonic pals? ]

I wasn't dying before.

( he'd just....not been getting better as fast as he should be. he swallows, watching her move closer to him. )

You had this one the whole time?

( the entire time he'd been bleeding and passing out, she'd been wearing this? )

Yeah.

[ she says it in a tone similar to duh.

standing at the edge of his bed, she's finished doing up the buttons of his shirt all the way up to her collarbones. letting her arms hang by her sides, she doesn't move to slide in next to him, preferring to look down at him for now. she imagines he doesn't mind her towering over him in this very moment. ]

You'd be surprised by how well I can multitask, Stefan. Carrying pizza boxes, carrying you, all the while wearing this. [ shrugging her shoulders flippantly, ] I was even considering being the sexy delivery pizza girl, but plans change.

[ she may have said that on purpose to get a rise out of him. ]

Sexy delivery pizza girl?

( jesus. he blinks at her, eyes wide and mouth suddenly going dry. )

You were going to do that?

( jesus. he's pretty sure he would have preferred that over a gun shot wound. he would have preferred almost anything over that. )

Sorry I ruined pizza night.

( or sorry his father had. )

[ rolling her eyes in annoyance, she shifts and places her knee on the side of his bed. ] Stop saying sorry.

[ all she wants is to lift his mood. being shot by his father has to have left a mark on him, and while she knows he probably won't want to talk about it right now... maybe being playful is what he needs right now. other than her, apparently.

she moves to sit on her knees on his lower legs, loosely straddling them. letting out a sigh, it's very clear she's putting it on. feigning disappointment, ] I was kind of planning on being a sexy nurse for Halloween, but you're very good at ruining my plans.

[ she curves her fingers around his leg beneath the sheets in what she hopes is a comforting touch. ]

Mmm. Sorry.

( this time when he says it, he smiles, stretching out underneath her and closing his eyes to enjoy the solid weight of her and her touch. )

Halloween's not for awhile though. You're already planning that far in advance?

( yes, he knows she has plans upon plans but five months in advance for a costume is a lot even for her. )

[ peering down at him in amusement, she's glad that this time when he closes his eyes, it's not because he's in any incredible pain. she doesn't feel any surge of worry; his heartbeat still sounds pretty healthy and steady in her ears. ]

I've had a lot of time on my hands. [ she shrugs a shoulder, keeping her hands near his knees. ] I could be a nurse, school teacher, or even a very classy lady from the 1800s.

[ has she told him she'd gotten a few of her corsets from 1864? that may have slipped her mind. ]

You've already been a very class lady from the 1800s, haven't you?

( when she was actually living in the 1800's, that is. he smiles, laughing quietly. )

I think you left all your dresses back in that time period.

[ biting her lips, she tries to hide away her smile. ] That's... not exactly the case anymore.

[ it's far better to talk to him about the dresses she'd received than to debate him on whether she truly was a "classy" lady in the 1800s. she's certain shacking up with two brothers and flirting with other men doesn't quite fit the bill. ]

I actually received a few outfits from my past last month. Scarily in perfect condition.

[ it would've been plenty ironic if she had been wearing the corset she had worn the last night they had together in 1864 when giuseppe originally interrupted their fun time. ]

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