Rax/Cat. Obviously.

Memories and dreams of the blonde had been plaguing her. Chicago, point of interest, where they had their fling and where they spent their time together -- had fun over some drinks, over someone else's bed, though that wasn't to her knowledge. Something about her kept her wanting more, more, more! -- and god forbid she find her in a place like this, and much less the apartment complex where she led her to that night.

But she cut the engine soon enough, searching, and coming up with nothing. Her knuckles rapped against the door repeatedly, and when she asked, she was told there was no 'Catherine' lodged inside the building. Frustration was painted fresh in tones of mild pink against her cheeks, and the burning desire for a goddamn drink after all of that time searching grew in her stomach and in her throat.

The second growl of her motorcycle echoed until it simmered down, and Rax dismounted off, glasses into her pocket and heels clicking as she stepped into the Stray Sheep. She sat down at a booth, the far corner one, right where she met her last time, and ordered her usual drink. And now, it was time to play the waiting game. Because she knew that this was her last shot, and her only one.

☻

“I wouldn’t mind taking you out for another spin.”

☺

Hell. Fucking. Yes. To all of these.