Enamor - Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader (WLW)

4 - A Missing Link

There was nothing worse in this world than waking up from a dream in which she finally had you in her arms again.

Caitlyn sits up, blurting, "Wait!" as the panicked racing of her heart steadily begins to slow. She has dreams like that often—running to you, hugging you, finally seeing you after so long. But whenever she looks at your face, she's met with a distorted picture.

She has no idea what you look like now, and that alone tears her apart. If you're alive, there's hardly a chance you're the girl who was her closest friend a year and a half ago.

Caitlyn clutches the sheets underneath her hands, sighing in frustration. Tears briefly well in her eyes before she groans, quickly stomping out of bed and over to her closet.

She gets dressed and surveys her room. It is an utter mess—papers and pictures of you two strewn everywhere. Barely a few spots of the hardwood below are even visible beneath the havoc.

But her mental health has deteriorated so much that she can never rise to the challenge of cleaning it. With a sigh, she walks out of her bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind her.

Making her way through the large manor she calls home, she sprints down the stairs. She needs to blow off some steam, shoot something—anything. While passing by, she catches a glimpse of her father in the kitchen.

She stops in her tracks, hesitating. She backs up a few paces to peer into the crack of the double doors again. Feeling guilt well up in her chest, she takes a breath to calm herself. She places a hand on the wood of the door, pushing it open.

Caitlyn steps through and gives her father a sheepish smile as he notices her enter.

Mr. Kiramman quickly sets the cinnamon rolls he'd just pulled out of the oven down and rushes over to Caitlyn, giving her a hug. He's long since noticed Caitlyn's deteriorating mental health and has tried to bridge the gap that your absence has created.

"How are you feeling?" Mr. Kiramman mumbles, pulling off his oven mitts, setting them to the side, and leaning on the counter with an elbow, hands clasped together, smiling up lovingly at his daughter.

"Alright, I suppose." Caitlyn mumbles, rubbing her arm self-consciously. She is as far from alright as you are from home. Her father gives her a knowing smile, wrapping her in his arms again, rubbing her back comfortingly, and cradling her head with his hand.

He releases her, giving a pat on the shoulder.

"You looked like you were on your way out. When you come home," Mr. Kiramman gestures to the tray of cinnamon rolls beside him, "you'll have some food waiting for you. Take care, clear your mind."

Caitlyn nods, softening considerably. There is nothing quite as good for her right now as her father's undying and unconditional love. He is her beacon of hope during this difficult time.

She gives him a more earnest smile this time, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I will." And with that, she turns on her heel to leave the room. Before she can get far, she hears him call out to her.

"I love you, Caitlyn." She can't help but smile, a warmth in her chest tinging the pain that was already there. She quickly paces herself out of the house, on her way to get her practice rifle from the outdoor gun chamber.

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You're running as fast as you can. Air burns in your lungs, shoulders and legs aching. You turn so sharply that you ram into a wall, quickly twisting into recovery and back on the run within seconds, throwing your stalkers off guard and setting them many paces behind you once again.