#katpol

I held flowers in a shaking, too tight hand. It felt like a shitty and pathetic gesture. Hey, sorry I just left you high and dry, take these dollar store fucking flowers. But it would have felt worse if I was empty handed. Maybe it should have been candy. Maybe it should have been money. A new car. Maybe I shouldn't be here at all.

I was standing at the door so long, neighbors would definitely start to get the wrong idea. And yet my fist stayed just so, knuckles ready but unable to knock.

My heart thundered against my ribs as my mind played back every possible terrible reaction that this could give me. He doesnt want to see me. He calls the police. He throws the flowers in my face. He's moved on. He hates me. He thinks I've betrayed him. He thinks I'm horrible. I am horrible. How could I do this to him?

I'd been gone too long. What a perfect piece of shit move. I'd told him I'd never leave. I fucking vowed it to him in front of everyone. I will stand by your side, love you and care for you, and be there when you need me most. Nothing could ever steal me away or make me love you less.

Fucking liar.

It was too much. I turned and started to leave before I was caught crying on a doorstep. I never even knocked.

But before I was off the porch, I heard the door swing open, and I didn't even need to turn around to hear his voice. His voice.

"Katie...?"

I froze. Would it have been better if he just didn't see me? Too late now. I turned back around to see him there in the doorway. Tall, always tall. Way over 6 feet, especially with that hair. Muscles, big and thick, my eyes still pec-height like we'd always joked about. He was still littered in more freckles than I could count, though I'd certainly tried once. His broken-heart earrings just seemed to dig the knife in deeper, like a slap to my face about how I'd treated him by disappearing. So much had happened. Things he just wouldn't understand. It was never because of him that I'd been gone.

"Jean Pierre." I replied finally, afraid my voice would break and I would weep.

He started coming toward me, and I had to ready myself. All the words I'd spent hours toiling over to explain myself failed immediately and I was left just standing there wordlessly as he crossed the porch in three steps to cling me to his chest.

I wasn't sure if he should hug me or punt me off the porch. But if I was in his shoes, I knew exactly what I'd have done. Maybe that's why he was so different. He was always so nice.

He hugged me so hard and I let him. His muscles were always strong and perfect for hugging. Strong and soft, like a cushion of muscle he brought my face into. The tight black shirt, the smell of his bodywash and shampoo, it was familiar like a home, like a home I'd been away from way too long. Like a home I didn't feel like I deserved to have. I hugged him back, the hand holding the flowers awkwardly parted away from him.

I was choked up when I pulled back to look at him. My throat felt all tight and tears were swelling in my eyes, causing him to swim before me in an unrecognizable shape of blurry hair.

"Polnareff, I—"

Starting a sentence took many tries.

"I don't— I wasn't— Fuck. I'm so sorry."

"I didn't know when you'd come back."

"I never meant to leave."

"I know you didn't."

He held my face in his palms, in his big soft warm palms like he did when we kissed. We didn't kiss, not yet, he just held me there.

"I owe you an explanation."

"Not now." He said. "Now I'm just looking at you again."

I had no choice but to look at him, too. His eyes were blue, shining with tears, his silver hair still looking perfect in that tall updo I never quite understood. Freckles galore across his cheeks and the bridge of his tall nose. He had that strong jaw, thick shoulder muscles, and most unexplainably, he was smiling.

I missed that smile more than I'd ever realized.

"Why don't you hate me?"

"The same reason that you don't hate me."

His French accent was always more apparent when he was sad.

"Well, you didn't leave me without an explanation. I think— I think you should hate me."

"Katie." His tone stopped me. He cupped my cheek and I immediately wanted to sink into it. "You know I wouldn't think that about you. Don't say that."

"Well— maybe I do hate me."

I could tell his heart was heavy. I handed him his flowers like the world's stupidest apology gift. He took them, and his face looked like glass, like he was fragile and could break. And yet, he still smiled.

"Would you like to come in?" He asked.

Would I ever. But did I deserve to? I fidgeted on the spot, and he could tell I was hesitating on purpose.

"Its your house, too, you know. It's been our home. You've always been welcome here."

I could feel tears that wanted to spill from my eyes. I wanted nothing more than for him to scream at me and kick me out, be angry, be rightfully enraged and never want to see me again, and he was the exact opposite. He had always been too good for me. I finally nodded, and Jean Pierre put his arm around me to guide me inside. He effectively made the decision for me, taking me inside, out of the cold, and back to where I belonged.

"Tell me about all your adventures, little fairy." He smiled, cooing like I'd never left.

He sat with me on the couch. I'd left that awkward space between us, not sure if he wanted me all cuddled up like nothing had changed, but he sat closer, close enough to fill that gap and held his arm around my shoulders, looking down at me attentively. I let out a long held sigh.

"Its a long story..."

When I'd finished regaling him with the story of where I'd been these past months, Polnareff had grown ever closer to me, even taking my legs and putting them over his lap, curling up like old times, when he'd sit and let me talk about my D&D ramblings, but I cut to the chase. We'd been skirting around my reason for coming here for too long.

"Look, Jean, I came here... I wanted... I had to apologize—"

Polnareff took my hands in his and cut me off, looking at my face sweetly. "I know. I know just why you came, cherie. You know I haven't forgotten you, or let you go." His voice was low and soft. Far softer than I would have given myself. "I've always been here. Right where you needed me. You came back, that's what matters, isn't it?"

My heart felt so heavy that he'd forgive me this easily. "Please let me apologize, Jean. Please." I whispered, finally letting my tears slip down my cheeks.

He brushed the hair out of my eyes, exposing one ear, and with the gentleness of an angel, he slid one of his broken heart earrings into the lobe of my ear. "There, just like it should be." He smiled.

I looked up at him and finally caved into him, taking his face with one hand and pulling him close to me, kissing him for the first time in what felt like ages. It seemed like the tension melted from our bodies at long last. We had each other again. We had each other. We were safe. His lips had been just as soft as they had been the first time we shared a nervous, blushy kiss in the hallway of our shared hotel in Egypt.

He kissed the top of my head when I pulled back and wiped my eyes, and his face was alight in a smile. A smile that reassured me that he was still here. That he didn't resent me, and that I hadn't completely ruined my chances with one of the kindest and most wonderful men I'd had the pleasure of falling in love with.

It went without saying that I wasn't thrilled when a woman threw herself in the way of Polnareff enacting revenge.

Went without saying, because I never said it in the first place. And if all went well, I'd never say it. I had learned from past encounters that I didn't have much luck expressing my feelings to the people I liked. Any time I developed a crush, it usually ended with a rejection, or I would suffer in silence as the person of my affection went on with their life, getting a partner and never knowing of my feelings.

The same was true for Polnareff, and it seemed the second option was about to happen before my eyes.

I was mad she got in the way, yes, but I was more mad with the way she was laying across him, her arms wrapped around his torso. Damn. She did in one tackle what I've wanted to do for over a week. Granted, not for the same reason, but still.

She was confessing her love for Hol Horse, preventing Polnareff from getting vengeance on Avdol's behalf, and it seemed utterly incomprehensibly selfish of me for the only thought in my mind to be, "What does she have that I don't, to be laying across him like that?"

Even Polnareff insulting her and pushing her away didn't seem to phase me. I knew jealousy wasn't a good look. But I wasn't jealous. I'd tell myself that until it felt true.

I simply stood there, reeling, as the group made a collective decision to bring her with us. I'd hardly had enough time to process what had happened with Avdol, let alone Polnareff's great act of revenge. What I really wanted now more than anything was to give him a hug. To sit by him, put my arms around him, maybe let out all of my emotions along with him. I could feel his pain. The relief of revenge, but his heart was more broken than his cute earrings.

I walked over to him with one hand out, ready to gently place it on his shoulder, maybe to pull him aside for a moment and try dealing with a few things.

...But the thought was cut short and I was left standing there behind him as he turned and took the woman away, commenting something about getting a move on. My hand still in the air, inches from his shoulder, and I could feel myself deflate. He didn't even notice I was there. I lowered my arm back to my side, hoping nobody else noticed the awkward almost-encounter. I walked begrudgingly behind the group, Kakyoin checking back over his shoulder to make sure that I was keeping up.

I had hoped Polnareff would leave an empty seat next to him in the bus, a place for me to slide in, maybe get a chance to talk with him. I wanted to mention how proud I was that he was finally able to get revenge, and how I was happy for him. But he was already turned around in his seat, chatting away with the woman. He was berating her for being so reckless, quite a statement coming from him.

"Come here, Katie, there's a seat by me." Kakyoin assured me, and I happily took it, but it didn't make me feel better to sit there and listen to Polnareff babble on about love to her.

I must have been staring, or giving away some semblance of emotion, because Kakyoin gently nudged my arm to get my attention.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine... just processing." It felt like I was distracting myself from the overlying issue by busying my mind with Polnareff and his escapades.

I could overhear Polnareff asking her questions as she stared off, looking bored. What I wouldn't do for just a sliver of that attention...

"Nena, you're probably a nice woman who is trying to get back to Varanashi. You are nice looking, and you look smart..."

Nice looking? Smart? Not really, I couldn't help but think. She was apparently in love with the man who shot and killed our friend. And she looked bored and disinterested. I didn't even think we should have brought her with us in the first place. I was bristling in my seat, my fist closing around the hem of my shirt for lack of anything else better to do.

"When you're in love, it's easy to do this," Polnareff continued, speaking to her icy stare. I wanted to look away, but it was like a train wreck I couldn't tune out.. He mimed tunnel vision, his hands cupping around his face. Oh how right he was. It felt so foolish to be jealous. I wasn't jealous.

The bus slowed to a stop, and we proceeded out. Joseph needed to get some sort of infection looked at, so the rest of us were free to meander around. I was ready to bolt in the opposite direction, wanting to find food or a souvenir shop, or really anything that wasn't listening to the man of my desires flirt with somebody else, when Kakyoin gently held my arm.

"Katie, could you keep an eye on Polnareff? There's something off going on around here. Don't make it obvious or anything, but I know something isn't right. And I trust you to make sure he doesn't get into any trouble."

I felt like I'd been sucker punched in the gut. "Sure." I said, a flat tone in my voice and my eyes toward the ground as I saw the massive, muscular Frenchman gently put his arm around her to walk. My shoulders dropped. I wanted to know what he felt like. And I couldn't blame anyone except myself for not speaking up sooner. It never felt like the right time.

We split off, and I began what would be several torturous hours of my existence. I bid Joseph a farewell, wishing him luck on getting his infection taken care of. Polnareff walked off with Nena, chatting flamboyantly. It seemed that the resentment had faded and transfered into interest. Perfect.

Every word he said was met with the same disinterested stare, a blank look. She didn't like him, she didn't even acknowledge him.

"A pretty woman like yourself could do so much better than a guy like him. Take me for example, I'd never just run off to leave you in the hands of strangers. He's leading you on! Can't you see that?"

I noticed the way he'd look her over. She was beautiful, and it made me angry. But beyond that, I felt hurt. What did she have that I didn't? Polnareff was always so quick to flirt with pretty ladies. Did he just find me unattractive? Was I not his type?

I hung back so neither could see me, though there was nothing I'd have wanted to do less than follow them around just to watch him lay it on thick. I could hear the nervousness in his voice. The anticipation. The hopeful stammer where he tried his damndest to not mess up his chances.

They stopped at a pastry stand along the way, and I followed suit, buying two puff pastries and packing them away into my bag. It wasn't often I had a chance to treat myself, and people always said chocolate heals heartache.

"Compared to Hol Horse, what do you think of me?" I overheard Polnareff commenting, a bead of sweat on his brow out of nervousness as I tried to keep up through the crowd without being seen. Not that I had to worry much. There were many police officers in the crowd. All the more reason to keep an eye out. "Am I your type?"

That sinking feeling in my gut never left. I should have told Kakyoin to watch Polnareff instead, and went with Joseph. I wanted her to say no, and maybe keep Polnareff from getting his chance with her, so maybe he could finally be with me. But even then, it felt futile. He never asked me if I was his type.

Once again, Nena didn't respond, which saved my heart from breaking fully, but it was the fact that he asked. I didn't know what would hurt worse... If she responded with a "yes," or continued ignoring him. I knew how much he must hurt.

I stood there knowing what each of my responses would be. If he ever cared to ask. It felt stupid. I had every chance to tell him how I felt up until this moment and I'd wasted them. Frankly, it was no one's fault but mine.

It always seemed to circle back to one question. Do I not trust her because she was working with Hol Horse? Or do I not trust her because I'm jealous?

I hated that word, "jealous." Jealousy was what other people felt, not me. I wasn't any sort of jealous type who would stop a partner from hanging out with people, or anything ridiculous. How could I get mad at him for liking somebody else if I never indicated otherwise? Well... inevitably... I still was.

Head hung, I just kept up my promise to Kakyoin to watch him. How many more hours of torture would this be?

Polnareff had an arm around her waist. She was small, like me, coming up to about his shoulder. Damn, fuck, shit, that could be me. Should be me. I didn't give a rat's ass about this stranger, I just wanted to be tucked up beneath his shoulder, his big muscular arm draping around me.

I pulled out a dessert from my bag and began to eat it, the only thing I could think to occupy my mouth so I wouldn't start screaming. What followed was the angriest eating of a pastry known to man, before I crushed the napkin tightly into my fist and hurled it at a trash can. And missed.

I kicked a rock hard on the way to pick it back up. I wished briefly that it was her face. I guess I was open to calling it jealousy now.

Much to my dismay and concern, the time it took for me to find the napkin and put it in the trash, Polnareff and Nena had vanished into the crowd. I felt a strange mix of relief and my feet going cold. Dammit. Why did I fuck up every task I was ever asked to do? I picked up my pace, trying to weave between the people while also keeping out of sight. I nudged my way past strangers, side-stepping until I got a bit closer to the alleyways.

Polnareff was a fucking giant with a stack of hair that towered over everything. He shouldn't be this hard to find, so surely he had rounded a corner when I wasn't looking.

I could feel my heart in my throat when I saw the way Nena had suddenly backed him to a wall. Her hand was on his chest. His mouth was slightly opened, and there was a light pink blush dusting his cheeks. Even from a distance, it was so obvious. He was shocked, she was finally reciprocating. I could tell just from his body language that he wasn't expecting it, and it had been quite a long time since he'd felt the romantic touch of a woman.

It didn't stop the rock-like feeling in my stomach. The feeling of having my head pushed underwater, the feeling of being electrocuted from the feet to skull, all with no pain at all. The tremble in my hands and the constriction around my lungs as all the air inside them dropped out of the bottom, leaving me cold and sick.

Her hand lay there against his chest and I could see how it was rapidly rising and falling. He looked so happy, it almost hurt me to feel jealous. I wanted him happy. But I wanted him happy with me. My arms simply dropped to my sides like all the air and motivation to stay standing was pulled from my body. His smile. He was positively beaming.

She hugged him, throwing her arms around him and pressing her face into his chest.

"I love you, because you're so reliable and kind—"

I could overhear her. Even he seemed confused.

"Hey— Where did this come from?" He asked, a tremble in his voice as he hugged her back, a goofy grin plastered on his face. He was falling in love with her. He was in heaven. I was in Hell.

Where the fuck was Joseph? All I wanted was for Joseph or Kakyoin or Jotaro or literally anyone to walk by and collect us, leave her behind, and I could go back to admiring from afar or disintegrating on the spot to stop existing forever. Maybe they would all just leave me behind in this strange city and they'd all be better off for it.

But really— Where was Joseph?

As if things couldn't get any worse, I watched Polnareff, blushing, stammering— absolutely adorable in any other other context than this— gently hold Nena by the shoulders.

"So— uh— What do you say, Nena? Let's make our love official— with a kiss!"

He held her and began to lean in, working against his instict to smile in joy just long enough to press a soft kiss against her lips—

But something was wrong.

He stopped as Nena began to groan and gurgle. He barely squeaked out a "Nena? What's wrong, darling?" before she exploded. Fucking exploded.

Her body contorted and Polnareff jumped back, screaming as she vomited blood onto the ground and her body burst open, revealing her true face. Her body crumpled to the ground in a pool of vomit and blood, and Polnareff panicked.

"Nena? What's going on?! What is this?" He screamed, watching the ghastly sight before him.

My hands were over my own mouth in horror, eyes wide in shock, and I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder break my trance. Joseph.

"So. She was the Empress all along." Joseph's voice cut through the horrific scene, and Polnareff looked at me for the first time since she had joined us. He was shell shocked, glancing between me and the body he had nearly kissed.

My jealousy seemed to fade when I saw the look on his face. I related to it more than he could understand. He seemed to be constantly dealt the worst hand. I couldn't imagine how he must feel. My eyes were so sad for him, but my heart was relieved.

***

It had been a couple hours since the incident, and Polnareff still didn't seem to want to talk. He sat outside the car, knees tucked to his chest, heartbroken.

Joseph called to him to get his attention, but Polnareff didn't even flinch. He didn't even react when Joseph tossed the key his way, and it embedded itself in the top of his hair.

I shook my head with a sigh.

"He's been through a lot. Leave him alone." I murmured softly. As the others piled in to the car, I finally took my chance. I did what I should have done earlier.

I sat down in the grass beside him and gently put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey."

"Bonsoir," he said in a soft voice.

"I'm sorry."

His head turned a little to face me. "Sorry? About what?"

"About Nena." I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, picking at my jeans.

He hung his head. I pushed closer, brushing arms with him.

"Just once, I'd like something to work out." I could hear the pain in his voice. This was 22 years of sadness and frustration coming out.

"Who's to say it can't?" I fiddled with the grass, looking out at the night sky.

He laughed a dark, sad laugh. "Katie. Mademoiselle. It hasn't worked out for the past 22 years." He began to pick at the grass as well.

"Maybe—"

Oh God, it's like I could hear the words I wanted to say, in my voice, I could feel them in the air. My throat bobbed as if it was preparing to say it. Shit, he's looking my way.

He looked at me, prompting me to continue. I swallowed hard.

"Maybe... Maybe that'll change soon. Sooner than you think."

I hold my breath as I place my hand down, covering his hand with my palm. He seemed to freeze up, staring at our hands.

"Katie..." He began. And I knew exactly what he meant by it. Don't do this to me, don't toy with my heart, don't get my hopes up. And I wouldn't, I could never.

All I could do was squeeze his hand. I felt like my heart was going to pop. I felt like I myself was going to throw up, and the only thing that kept me from doing so was not wanting to traumatize Polnareff a second time today.

"Jean, look, you're a very sweet man. You're kind, brave, strong... anyone would be lucky to date you. And if they can't see that, then fuck them. I see it. You deserve so much better than the hand you were dealt. I wanted to tell you im proud of you. I'm so fucking proud of you."

In the light of the moon, I could see tears welling up in his eyes. I knew everyone was waiting for us, and the feeling of being watched felt so apparent, but I decided then and there that they'd just have to wait.

He seemed to break from his trance, and his arm came up and around me. Immediately, I felt warm all over. I tucked under his shoulder and felt almost giddy and intoxicated. I'm under his arm. I'm being held. Just like I wanted.

I rested my head against him and put my arm around him too.

"Thank you." He whispered, his voice strained. "Merci."

We stayed there a beat longer, hugging in the cold night air. He rubbed my shoulder, and I sought out as much of his body heat that I could.

"I think they're waiting for us." He mused after a moment, patting my shoulder lightly. Already, he seemed in better spirits.

"They can wait another minute." I cut him off, squeezing his arm a little before he could stand. "I... I wanted to do something first."

In the light of the headlights from behind and the moon above, I could see the pinkness flushing to his face. I could practically hear his heartbeat in his throat, and I wondered if he could hear mine.

I couldn't think of anything clever to say, anything suave or cool or brave. In fact, I wanted to run away in embarrassment and shyness, but I had his full attention. I couldn't lose it now.

I simply brushed his cheek with my fingertips before cupping his face with my hand. His massive hand came up to cover mine, and he melted against my palm.

Now or never, and everyone is watching.

I pulled him close, gently kissing his lips in the light of the headlights. My pulse was off the charts, my eyes fluttering closed.

I felt his body tremble, his teeth bumping against my lips as he smiled so wide he couldn't contain it, even for a moment of the kiss. He kissed back, his other hand coming up to cup my cheek and the back of my neck.

A sharp whistle cut through the night air, and I saw Joseph leaning out of the car window.

"Alright, you two lovebirds! Let's get a move on!"

I broke away from him and blushed, glancing at the ground. He was beaming, tears still in his eyes and his face cherry red.

He helped me to my feet, and didn't let go of my hand as we walked back to the car.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say I made you jealous earlier~"