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He's heard something about Kate, but he's not sure he believes it.

It was just a few days ago that he sat there on the floor of her flat and watched the paramedics take her away, that blank look on her face. Chris still can't get it out of his fuckin' head, can't stop thinking that somehow it's his fault, that if he'd turned up early, maybe it wouldn't have happened. He would've been there.

But another one of Chris's mates has called him, found him in the phone book or something and said Kate's not dead. It makes no sense; he'd been there and the EMT's had said it was true. But he has to go by her place anyway.

If he's alive, then there's no reason Kate can't be as well. He's supposed to be in the ground somewhere in Bristol, somewhere underneath a wooden cross with his name on it, after all.

He's standing outside of her door for a full three minutes before he remembers to knock, hand shaking a bit as he wonders whether or not it'll actually be Kate who answers.
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fuck_it: (Default)Chris Miles

March 2015

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