Hate Me, Love Me(GirlxGirl)

Chapter Twenty-Eight: When a Blacksmith's Dark Past Returns

Wassup, it's ya gurl Jess back at it again with a new chapter.

Took a while (long while) but here ya go.

Again, thank you THANK YOU THANK YOU for your never ending love and support. Love you guys, always <3

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WARNING: Mild graphic scene in the middle of the chapter (not the type of scene most of you guyzz are hoping for, you pervs)

Hate Me, Love Me:

Chapter Twenty-Eight: When a Blacksmith's Dark Past Returns

KAT

There was something about being in Mabel Sanders' bedroom that made Kat feel...nervous. This was the room that belonged to a girl who captivated her day and night. The fact that she would be staying in the same room as her made her feel like she was a shy schoolgirl standing in front of her crush. Kat Blacksmith was no shy schoolgirl but being with Mabel made her feel like one. It felt strange to have these feelings bombard her when it came to the short, brown-haired girl who was looking through her drawers for her sleepwear.

Kat could see the pink shade of her cheeks – the flushed expression on her face that reminded her of what they had done just moments ago downstairs. Kat should feel ashamed that she took it a step forward but she didn't. Nor did she feel afraid that she had her hand deep within the pants of Ivan's little sister. She didn't care what Ivan would say. All she cared about was the girl who was quickly grabbing an old T-shirt and plaid shorts before rushing to her bathroom.

She smirked at her shyness, catching the small smile on the girl's lips before she closed the bathroom door. Kat sat down on the queen-sized bed, scanning the bedroom of the girl who was under Ace's radar. The huge bookshelves that were adorned with books – all in alphabetical order – were either with worn out spines or freshly made. There were a few figurines decorating a few of the shelves, mostly pixie statues with flowers in their hair and feet. An old guitar perched at its stand right next to the bookshelf. It was untouched but well taken care of. As if Mabel would clean it every day to keep the dust from destroying its beautiful, enriched color.

The room was far different from hers. While Mabel's room was decorated with many things that showed her personality, Kat's didn't. Her room was bland. There was nothing on those four, white-colored walls. The only furniture she had in her room was the black stained color vanity set, the nightstand, and her bed that was never used. She could see her room in her head perfectly. The black comforter had no creases or held no indication that someone slept in it. The thick curtains were always drawn close, leaving the room darker than it was. Dust decorated the vanity as well as the untouched hairbrush that probably had its own outline when removed.

Touching the soft lilac comforter softly, she couldn't remember when she had a good night sleep. Her sleep had always been interrupted with nightmares of her past, keeping her awake – afraid of closing her eyes. She didn't want to go through that pain again. Just the thought of it made her arch her back, involuntarily. The remembrance of those lit cigarette butts burning down her back and the whips of the belt tearing her skin. She could hear her younger self screaming in agony.