Dated to August 3

[fuck_it]

It's weird, how fast time can go by without you noticing it's done it. A year ago, Chris cut across streets, behind a church and its graveyard and found his own grave marker, sat there next to his brother's like it belonged. It was fucked, and it still is— he knows the markers are still there 'cause he's checked— but the day had turned out brilliant, in the end.

He doesn't know if he and Cissie ever would've kissed if it hadn't been for all that, so while it's fuckin' awful that it happened, he can't be angry about it, not really. He's got someone he loves now, more than almost anyone, and that probably wouldn't have happened without all that.

Chris turns up at Cassie's flat without calling ahead for once, two tambourines that he bought from that one store in one hand and flowers in the other. He can't remember the last time he brought someone flowers, but he should've done it before now.

He knocks on the door with his foot, since his hands are both full of stuff, but finds that it swings open, which is fuckin' weird.

"Cissie?" he calls, frowning, and walks in.

Comments

[arrowette]

Cissie winced. It was a perfectly logical conclusion for Chris to come to, of course, but she couldn't help but think back to the guy she had almost killed (and would have if it hadn't been for Kon). She didn't kill, she would never kill but it was a reminder all the same about how important it was to stay in control.

"Not exactly. I mean - I shoot at them if they're committing a crime, but I aim for a knee or hand or something like that. Someplace that will stop them or slow them down long enough for the police to get them."