Complicated

Chapter 70: Finally

swipe to listen (btw this song is actually my favorite song) (it's also on loop dw) —>

1 more chapter after this and it's the end y'all!!!

F I N A L L Y

———

Kathy's POV

I am a wreck when I'm without you
I need you here to stay
~~~

Sept 14th, 2024

I shouldn't be here right now.

I'm probably making the wrong choice. I know it damn well. I know I should turn around and get out of here. Get out of England and run back to the US, continue living my life, living my healthy relationship with Noah.

And yet I can't get my feet to move. They're planted here. In front of the flat I was informed that Damon Lovegood lives in.

I reached down to scratch my calf and winced once again at the burn of my branding scar that I have to live with forever.

The building is beautiful, clearly expensive, modern. The door to his specific flat is a clean white, with the number seven written on it in golden lettering.

I couldn't move. Not even enough to lift my hand and knock on the door. Just as I was working up the courage to, it opened, and my body froze.

I looked at him. All of him. Looked at every bit of him carefully, not just glanced like I did back in San Francisco.

His beauty shocks my body, wakes up the butterflies in my stomach. He's gotten taller, somehow. He's still pale but has a bit of a tan, a bit of a rosy pink splash on his cheeks, he looks healthy. His hair is still brunette and looks incredibly soft, it makes me want to run my fingers through it and pull. His jawline is still sharp, lean and angular. And yet, his eyes are the most mesmerizing of all. I could get lost in those chocolate brown eyes of his that always flicker with mischief forever.

Forever.

By Merlin that word. It was a promise. A promise which I broke.

I came here to talk. That was the plan. Sit down, enjoy a cup of tea or coffee, and talk.

But now, looking at him with his muscular yet lean figure leaning on the door frame, his brunette hair a bit messy, his lips slightly parted, his chocolate brown eyes staring into my soul, the last thing I want to do is talk.

Yet, he does. He speaks. "Katherine?" Lord have mercy. His voice. His beautiful, deep, rich voice that infiltrates all of me: mind, body, and soul.

"What'd you do to me?"

"I beg your pardon?"

I stepped up to him, wrapping my hand around his freckled neck and pulling him down to meet me eye level, just as he's done to me so many times.

"What'd you do to me?" I repeated the question he asked me so often, years ago.

And I pulled him into me, opening my mouth to kiss him deeply.

He didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his flat, using his foot to close the door. I was hungry, hungry for him. I haven't realized how many years I lived in ignorance by forgetting him. I didn't realize how much I've missed the taste of his lips, lips that were soft and luscious and tasted a bit like tea and honey.

As I ran my tongue across his teeth I heard a sound that made me moan. "Fuck." He groaned, making me moan and press myself tighter to him.

We were in his kitchen, I could tell by how the cold rippled through my skin when my waist was hit against the side of his kitchen counter. I jumped onto it and moaned as he dug his nails into the side of my hips. I smiled when I heard a groan escape his lips as I tugged on his bottom lip with my teeth.