golden [kaylor]

( five. )

This chapter is slightly longer than the others. I hope you guys enjoy it!! The response I've gotten for this has been so lovely and I really appreciate it.

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Karlie is still beautiful.  That's all you can really think about as you sit across the table from her.  She's wearing a dress that falls silver from her skin, like crystalline snowflakes or summer raindrops.  Her signature bob is curled slightly, delicately, and her makeup is subdued in a way that's comfortable, like warm sheets in winter.

You glance at her over your wine glass, trying not to stare.  But you can't help it.  She's telling a story about a bear that had stumbled upon her photoshoot the day before, but you aren't hearing much more than that.  Because just being in front of her like this, just listening to her slight accent, seeing the flash of white teeth behind her pale pink lips as she speaks, it's intoxicating.  

"So Mr. Bear decides that he wants to be Nike's new spokesperson, because he just marches along in front of the camera.  And I mean, it's a bear, none of us can tell him he won't look good in leggings," Karlie is saying when your brain slots back into focus, and you're glad it picks that moment, because you burst into laughter.  Maybe it's funnier because you haven't heard the entire story, but picturing a bear in leggings has you choking on your wine.

Karlie starts laughing just as hard, and god, christ have you missed that sound.  Her head falls back, eyes closing, and she's so beautiful.  You still write songs when you're lonely at night, and in your head you start composing a lyric about this moment.

You must have been staring for real this time, because Karlie's eyebrows raise, "You still with me in there, Eva?"

"Yes.  Zoned out for a second," You reply, face flushing, "I was too busy picturing a bear in Nike leggings.  But hey, you should convince them to make a feline collection.  I'd buy it for my cat."

Karlie snorts derisively, "I doubt Meredith and Olivia would go for that."

Meredith and Olivia.  You have to work hard not to shriek or dive across the table.  Karlie has your cats.  Your babies are still in a good, familiar home with someone they trust.  It relaxes a knot in your shoulders you didn't even know was there.  You manage to muffle the excitement in your voice, twisting it into curiosity, "Meredith and Olivia?"

"My cats," Karlie replies, and you regret watching the question when her face crumbles slightly, "Well, Taylor's cats."

She looks halfway to tears already, in five seconds flat, and you realize you've already gone and messed this up.  Your hands carefully avoid plates and wine glasses and take hold of hers.  You squeeze gently, hoping it's comforting.  Your voice is thick and clunky, "You miss her, don't you?"

I'm right here, Karlie.

"I miss her so much," Karlie replies.  She clutches your hands so tightly you figure they'll bruise.  But you can't bring yourself to mind because the bruises will be purple like a rose garden and it'll be beautiful if Karlie is the one who planted it.