|Finnick Odair (changingtide) wrote in the100,|
@ 2016-04-10 22:49:00
|Entry tags:||!storybrooke, finnick odair, katniss everdeen|
Who: Finn and Katrina Magby (Finnick Odair and Katniss Everdeen)
Where: Their place
What: Katrina says a name during sex -- it isn't Finn's
Rating: Moderate (non-explicit sex)
Affection came easily between Katrina and Finn, but she usually shied away from anything too intense. She always felt guilty about it, though. That was why, one night, when she kissed his cheek and discovered she actually wanted to kiss him again, more deeply - she went with it.
She couldn’t have explained why this night was different from any other night. It had seemed like a normal day like any other, and there was no reason why she wouldn’t have wanted to just follow their normal routine of dinner, cuddling, and sleep. But this time, the easy affection between them actually made her feel warm, and want more. Because it was so nice, for once, to not feel guilty - to be able to do what she felt like she should want to do, being married to him - she went with it.
It went well. Really well, in fact. It would have ended even more amazingly well, except, right after she came, she breathed out: “Peter.”
Finn had been surprised when she kiss him, but not displeased. He had the sense -- but wasn’t totally sure, because who was there to compare? -- that he and Katrina didn’t have a ton of sex for a married couple. It didn’t bother him. There were more important things he figured, and what mattered was that they were good partners for one another.
So, yes, maybe he had expected that they would have more after they had gotten married, but he had also let Katrina set the pace and didn’t pressure her.
He was still concentrating on her more than himself when she came -- and said a name that wasn’t even remotely close to his.
His heart flipped about strangely in his chest, because he -- for a moment -- thought that he had to have misheard her, that that couldn’t have possibly happened. But the seconds dragged on, and it still had happened. He wasn’t moving, but he didn’t know what he was supposed to do either. So, he pulled out of her and then started fumbling around for his boxers.
Katrina barely even realized that she’d said anything, much less that it was someone else’s name. But she definitely noticed when he went still, although she didn’t think anything of it immediately. It slowly sank in, when he finally moved, that he hadn’t gotten off - and that something was wrong.
She felt vulnerable and cold, and she reached for the sheets, pulling them up over herself. When she’d done that, she sat up, looking at him. “What’s wrong?”
He was stinging with hurt, and he didn’t know how to have this conversation -- really hadn’t even seen this coming. He looked at her with disbelief, unable to hide that, but he didn’t answer her out loud. How could he? What was there to say? At best it meant that she was attracted to someone else and -- and the thought suddenly occurred to him -- at worst, it meant that she was already sleeping with someone else.
And not someone else at all. Peter Rusk. Obviously.
He tugged his underwear back on and walked out of their bedroom.
She’d said something. What had she said? What could she possibly have said that would send him walking out of the room without talking to her?
Katrina made a grab for clothes, any clothes that were nearby, and came up with his shirt. She felt a flash of guilt and hurt, but tugged it on anyway, just so she could hurry out of the room after him. It had finally been going right, and now it all felt horribly wrong.
“Finn,” she said, walking after him, almost running. “Finn, wait. Don’t go.”
“What?” Finn asked sharply. He didn’t like the sound of his own voice, but neither could he seem to manage to hide that hurt -- which was surprisingly swiftly turning into anger. “What do you want, Katrina?”
He was moving around the pillows on the couch as if he intended to sleep there, but he really had no idea what he intended to do. He seemed incapable of stringing any thoughts together as to how make this situation any better. But, at the very least, the bulk of the couch in between them presented a barrier.
“I just--” Katrina didn’t even know what to say. What she wanted was for him not to be angry with her, but he was more hurt than anything else, she could tell. Which only made it worse, because she’d hurt him. “I wanted to have a nice night, that’s all. With you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling vulnerable in so many different ways, and hating every minute of it. “Whatever I said, I - I didn’t mean it.”
The added phrase -- with you -- only made his anger simmer hotter. Because that obviously hadn’t been the case. It hadn’t been him she had been thinking about at all when they had been in bed together, and, of course, that made sense why tonight had seemed so out of the ordinary.
Never once had she said his name like that.
And that was what brought him up short, and made the pain sting all the worse. Because he wasn’t being dramatic. She hadn’t ever said his name quite like that, and while she was saying she didn’t mean it, Finn suddenly and painfully realized that she did. And all of his anger was suddenly gone, and it was just the hurt that lingered -- the hurt of knowing that the person he had been with the longest in his life, the one he had decided he had wanted to build his adult life around, maybe didn’t love him after all. That this all was a lie. And that felt like too much to bear.
“Yes, you did,” he answered sullenly.
“I don’t even remember what I said!” There was hurt in her voice, too, strung out and raw. Katrina felt guilt, but didn’t know why. There was something different, something that was different about her, and she’d thought it was a good thing. “How could I mean it? I was barely even-- I--”
She didn’t know how to describe to him how it had felt. She’d never been able to get lost in the moment of just being with him before, enough to make her stop thinking, and that was why it had never worked. But now she felt like it was darker than that, that there was something wrong with her that she’d tried to hide even from herself because she knew it would ruin everything, and they’d both just stumbled upon it. Her mind was still trying to veer away from it, deny it, but she had to know what it was, or she couldn’t make this right.
“You said Peter’s name!” Finn shouted back at her (even though he knew he shouldn’t. Even though he had promised himself, promised Lynn, at some point that he would never yell at a woman. But when he had made that promise, he had been thinking of the angriest he had ever been, and this had far more to do with hurt and the fact that his chest felt too tight).
It felt dangerous even saying those words aloud, as if was adding more fuel to the flames, but Katrina just kept persisting in saying that she didn’t know, and Finn couldn’t deal with that anymore.
The first time Katrina had tried to take a dive into the pool, she’d done it totally wrong and ended up hitting the water almost flat on her belly. It had knocked the wind out of her. She’d been much more careful since then, to go into the water only hands- or feet-first. But that was how she felt now, or like she’d been punched in the gut. Either way, she couldn’t breathe.
“I didn’t,” she said, more to herself than to him. “I don’t-”
Even as she tried to say it, it felt feeble. She didn’t want Peter, not really, not consciously. He had an effect on her, but that was all it was. She had been tempted to go to the dance with him once upon a time, but she’d danced with Finn instead, and that had been so, so much better. Finn was her best friend. She loved him.
But she didn’t want him the way she should, and she knew it. She wanted to, desperately, because she loved him, because that was how she was supposed to feel about him. She’d thought maybe she’d finally reached that point. But now that she couldn’t hide behind denial anymore, she remembered saying it. She remembered watching him at the bakery that morning.
And she still, so desperately, wanted it not to be true. Wretchedly, she wished that her body and heart would want the same person, that she could love Finn with everything she had, because he was hers and he was worth it. It wasn’t his fault, or her lack of trying, that she didn’t. It was just stupid, some stupid chemical reaction that Peter caused and Finn didn’t, and it didn’t - it didn’t matter. It really didn’t matter to her. She didn’t need sex, she just needed her best friend, and if she’d just kept avoiding this part, maybe it never would have mattered.
But she’d tried, and because of Peter she’d succeeded, and now she was terrified that they’d never be the same.
“I don’t want him,” she said, and her eyes were stinging, her voice rough. It was true, in the most important sense. The time when she’d actually wanted anything from Peter Rusk had passed her by years ago, and then she’d been with Finn, and she had never once regretted that. “I don’t. I swear I don’t. I want to be with you.”
Finn watched her as she tried to fumble through to an answer. The first part still seemed as if she was trying to deny what had happened, and Finn remained stalwart. He knew what he had heard. There wasn’t mistaking that.
But the last part -- when she wore her upset so openly -- Finn knew she was telling the truth. The guilt over yelling at her washed back over him. Whatever had just happened, it had rattled her as much as it had rattled him.
“I’m sorry I shouted at you, Kat,” Finn said, his tone more hushed. Still, he remained on the other side of the couch. He might have forgiven her in that moment, that what she had done wasn’t intentional, but it still left him quietly smarting.
Katrina shook her head. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t blame him for yelling. Of course he was upset. There was something wrong, something wrong with her. She raised her hands to run them over her face, trying to pull herself together. Trying to find something to say that would erase what she’d said.
But the problem was, she wanted to tell him it didn’t mean anything, but it did. It didn’t mean she wanted to be with someone else, that much was true. It didn’t mean she would ever want to leave him, or cheat on him, the way he’d probably thought at first - the way he might still be wondering now. But it pointed to a fundamental problem in their relationship that she’d been trying so hard to ignore, even inside their own mind, because she didn’t want it to mean anything. She didn’t want it to ruin their partnership. Marriage, sex, romance, she could take or leave any of those things, but she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him entirely, or making things so difficult between them that even their friendship was unavailable to them. She was afraid that not talking about it, ignoring the problem, had pushed them into territory that they couldn’t handle and might not be able to come back from. That thought was most terrifying of all.
“I love you,” she whispered, because she could feel it in every fiber of her being, how much he meant to her. “I never, ever wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry, Finn.”
“I know,” Finn answered, even though he wanted to be able say something that meant more. But at the moment that was all that came out of his mouth -- that he did know that Katrina loved him and hadn’t meant to hurt him.
They had fought rarely in the short span of their relationship and particularly of their marriage, and it left him at a loss for what he was supposed to do now. Because while he did know that she loved him (and that he loved her), and that she hadn’t meant to hurt him and that he would forgive her for the fact that she had hurt him all the same, the fact remained that he was hurt right now. He needed some time to himself to get over that stinging pain, and that left him in awkward position right now.
They’d never gone to sleep purposefully apart from each other before.
It was good that he knew, but the absence of anything else - that hurt. And Katrina couldn’t even be angry, except with herself, because it was no one’s fault but hers. She swallowed, and closed her eyes for a moment.
She was going to cry over this, the moment she was alone. And that, too, was painful - because she had never cared about him seeing her cry before. She still wasn’t concerned with his judgment, but it felt wrong, somehow, to break down - to make him feel like he had to comfort her, or feel guilty if he just couldn’t do it.
“So what now?” she asked finally, her voice rough. She hadn’t opened her eyes to look at him. “I can-- I’ll go.”
It was obvious that he didn’t want to be around her. He’d kept the couch in between them the whole time, and never came a step closer. She knew him well enough to know what that meant. And even if he left the house, she didn’t think she could bear being in here alone.
“No,” Finn said hastily, scrubbing one hand over his face. “No, of course you don’t have to go.” That was the last thing he wanted, making her feel like she didn’t belong in the space that was her own home.
“I’ll just sleep on the couch tonight and you can take the bed, and we’ll get a fresh start in the morning, okay? Pretend none of this ever happened,” he suggested.
He knew it would be better if he could make himself get into their bed, but he wasn’t sure if that would help things at all at the moment -- or if she even really wanted him there. So, this was the best he could do.
Pretend none of this ever happened.
Could they do that? Could it be that easy? Just sweep it under the rug, never talk about it again, and go on with their lives? Katrina really wasn’t sure. She didn’t know what she wanted the answer to be. Of course she didn’t want things to be ruined forever, but pretending nothing was wrong had gotten her into this mess in the first place, hadn’t it?
She did know that she couldn’t go back to bed without him. “I don’t want the bed,” she said, maybe a little too harshly. To make sure he didn’t take it the wrong way, she added, “Not without you. You can sleep there if you want.”
She suspected he didn’t want it either, though. As for her - it was obvious she couldn’t leave the house, because he wanted her to stay. If not for the comment about pretending everything was fine and going back to the way things had been, she might have thought that he was just looking out for her, the way he always had. But on some level she also suspected that leaving might make things worse, hurt him even more. So she had to stay. Which meant finding a corner of the house to curl up in, on her own, and probably not sleeping at all.
“Kat, please just take the bed,” he half begged. He knew that he couldn’t get into that bed with her right now, but he also wanted things to be as normal as possible -- and he knew that put him at odds with himself. He also didn’t want her to feel put out of a space that belonged to her, and that was why he would feel better about her taking the bed rather than the couch or anything else even inside their home. She’d been displaced so many times in her life, and he’d wanted to protect her from that.
Selfishly, he knew that he was satisfying that latter want of his own, even though she had just told him that she didn’t want to sleep in their bed without him.
The problem was is that there was no perfect solution to all of this. It was just trying to find the balance that brought the least pain.
Katrina stared at him, her eyes now obviously wet, and there was nothing she could do to hide it. She wanted to tell him that there was no possible way for her to feel more alone and displaced than to be in their bed by herself, that literally anywhere else would be less painful. But she knew him well enough to know that he was insisting because, for some reason, that was what he wanted her to do - and she owed it to him to do it, didn’t she?
Finally, she looked away, lifting one hand to wipe at her eyes. “Okay.”
He regretted as soon as he saw the tears welling in her eyes. He hated seeing her cry. He always had. It had always made him feel unbelievably helpless -- and he didn’t think he’d ever felt more so than in this moment, because he was the cause of it.
But his throat felt as if it had swollen shut, and he didn’t know what else to say. He still didn’t know how to solve this problem.
All he managed to say was, “Okay,” and his voice came out just as rough as hers.
There wasn’t anything else to say. Katrina knew that with a horrible, despairing clarity. She drew in a deep breath, and managed to pull herself together a little bit, to accept that going to bed apart was the only thing to do. She swallowed down the hurt, at least for the moment, and managed a tiny smile for him, hoping it would reassure him or assuage the guilt that he was probably feeling, even though nothing was his fault.
Softly, almost calmly, she managed to say, “Goodnight, Finn.”