o. SENTIMENTAL
{ chapter two. }

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Katherine watched silently as they dragged her love's body out from the burning building. Margaret looked dead, like her life had been thrown away into the flames, and all the female vampire wanted to do was take her away from the pain Mystic Falls brought and live the rest of their immortal lives together. Only, that couldn't — wouldn't — happen, because the only thing it would bring was madness.

     When they were first in love, everything was perfect and happier, like the two could have a life together. For Katherine, Margaret banished all of the darkness that followed her and replaced it with light. No more paranoia, no more loneliness, no more existing, because that's all she did; exist.

     So when the sickness came, it all fell to pieces. What were once bright skies and gentle smiles, now dark clouds and glaring eyes. She left and they kept their distance. No more secret kisses out on the balcony or endless night of whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. Because of the madness. It tore them apart, and with time, came bitterness. Katherine could never get enough of Margaret, her sweet lady love, and Margaret the same. But after many years spent away from each other, all the happy memories turned to ashes in their mouths and they simply tried to forget.

     Until the day her lover's life was threatened.

     The curly haired vampire had never felt so much hate and loathing for any one person before — not even dear old Niklaus, whom she wanted to tear apart and watch burn. No, this person she wanted to watch die a most painful death; watch the light leave their eyes, bit by bit, piece by piece, until all they had left was a shell of themselves. And their name was John Gilbert. He was nothing but a spiteful old man with nothing better to do than set buildings on fire and ruin the lives of everyone around him.

     Katherine paid the fool a visit — after dealing with the mess that was Damon Salvatore — and made sure he knew she wasn't one to be messed with. Margaret was untouchable in her mind, and she would do just about anything to keep her safe; lie, murder, abandon. Which was why when he thought she was sweet, innocent Elena, he lost his four appendages to the butchers knife she wielded.

"Hello, John. Goodbye, John," was the last thing she said before stabbing him in the stomach with the knife used to sever his fingers.

As always, she had won and they had lost. Because when came to Margaret du Poissant, her love, nothing could stand in their way. Not even sad little men like John Gilbert who thought they had any chance of surviving their cruel world.

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     Margaret was a sentimental character, Katherine knew. She held onto memories and things from the past, good and bad, because she feared there would be a time when she would want to reminisce, only to have forgotten. This was evident in her room, which featured many things from their past. Pictures, jewellery, small knickknacks from the time they travelled the globe in under three years, never spending more than a week in one place.

     There was an iron-framed photo that hung from her beige walls, featuring their forever youthful faces smiling at the camera in monotonous delight. They were dressed in attire from the early twentieth century, wearing loose fitted dresses and pearl necklaces with matching earrings. It was destined to be was one of the last times they would truly see each other, too busy being afraid of Margaret's magical vampire dementia to test fate once again. And they cherished every moment, kiss, sweet nothing whispered under the stars.

     "Oh Margaret, look what we've become..." Katherine said, voice soft. A wistful sigh fell from the curve of her mouth and she smiled in bitter resentment, thinking back on all of their missed time, and simply because Margaret's hag of a mother was too prejudice and vile to let them be.

     She turned to the woman laid down helplessly on the bed, hands clasped gently and clothing slightly charred. Still, Margaret was ethereal, her soft, porcelaine skin radiant in the moonlight entering in from the bedroom window that encompassed the whole east wall. She looked delicate, like a small touch could leave her cracked and broken.

     Katherine was at an impasse, lost on what she should do. Should she stay and wait for Margaret to wake up? Or leave and hope a better time to reveal herself? The answer wasn't an easy one to find, obscured, by mist and fog, from her vision. If only someone would tell me what to do, she thought in a moment of vulnerability. Katherine never sort out other people's advice, seeing it as flawed, but when it came to Margaret, all reason was lost to the wind. She didn't know what to do with herself, and she was the person to blame. There was never a time for weakness, for doubt and hesitation. She should be sure in whatever she is doing.

     The bed creaked from the added weight as she sat down, glancing to her right before caressing Margaret's dyed blonde hair. She always looked better with brown hair, in Katherine's opinion, though maybe her view was bias, as her love had been a brunette when they'd met.

     Her thoughts soon turned sadder, as sentimental as Margaret's room.

     "Remember, my love, how we always dreamed of buying a little house together? When we wanted to adopt a German Shepherd and name it Max, after your brother?" Katherine laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of it, never seeing herself domesticated, unless with the women lying unconscious next to her. "It all sounds so naïve now, so idyllic and hopeless. We could never be normal, no matter how much we want to be. I've never told anybody that before, that I wanted to be housewife who comes home a loving family. Until you, because you're the only person I could picture being like that with..." she trailed off and looked to the window, brown eyes trained on a bird in the distance.

     Just as Katherine was about to stand to her feet, a hand firmly gripped her arm and made her look down to Margaret, who's piercing blue eyes were already looking at her.

     "Stay." It was only one word, one syllable, one meaning; but it was enough that one thousand words could not convey her feelings better. She meant for Katherine to stay, to not abandon her, to hold her close as she suffered through her demons. Margaret didn't want to be alone. Katherine nodded her head in understanding, before she moved to lay down and hold on tight to the other woman. She would not let go for as long as she was able to hold her.

     Not that she would want to.

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