Closer - a Lip Service fanfic (F/F) (3/?)

[Winged]

Hi all! I've recently been watching a show called Lip Service, which is basically a Scottish version of the L-Word, haha. It follows the lives of a group of lesbians in Glasgow, and there are so many beautiful ladies on screen, mee-ow. Two of the main characters really caught my attention, and after finishing the series I couldn't get this little plot bunny out of my head.

This fic follows Cat MacKenzie, an architect who is dating a cop named Sam Murray. They are very adorable and happy together. However, Cat's ex-girlfriend Frankie Alan has recently come back into the picture, and she is super hot and definitely still in love with Cat. Drama ensues.

This fic is set at the very beginning of season 2 when (spoilers!) Cat has begun seeing Frankie behind Sam's back.

(other cameo characters include Frankie's roommate/Cat's bestie Tess, as well Cat's coworker Jay, who slept with Frankie when they were drunk and really pissed off his girlfriend)

And now, without further ado, here is the first chapter! Not a whole lot of sneezing yet, but we've got to work up to it first. Many thanks and showers of love to Sen Beret, who was super encouraging and got excited about this fic with me, as well as reading it over to make sure I wasn't saying anything stupid.

--

Chapter One

Catherine MacKenzie had always prided herself on being rather level-headed. When pressed to their limits, Frankie was the one to fly off the handle, and Tess would burst into tears, but Cat would simply put her head down and push on. She would become fanatically obsessive about the state of her flat, but she was a master of holding it all together.

Unfortunately, the state of things lately had catapulted her far past the borders of her comfort zone. She had been pouring all her energy into a massive presentation pending at work, but her boss Alistair was dogging her heels like a persistent terrier and picking out the flaws in her work like it gave him personal joy. It had been this way ever since he'd found out that she liked women, and it was enough to make Cat want to pull out her hair in frustration. On top of that, she was cheating on Sam, her loving and reliable partner, with a flame from the past. She and Frankie had been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, mostly in little snatches of bliss caught in alleyways or on the floors of hotel rooms, and it terrified Cat how much she was enjoying it. This will be the last time, she told herself every time she lay with her body flush against Frankie's, luxuriating in the warmth of her skin. I love Sam.

But she loved Frankie too, and the weight of her secret had only grown worse as the days had gone by.

It was with this dark smudge on her conscience that Cat scrubbed aggressively at a pan in the sink, scraping at the crusted butter with a fingernail when it wouldn't dislodge from the ceramic.

"Honey, I'm home," Sam called cheerily from the door, letting it slam closed behind her. Cat kept her back to the living room, frustration hot in her chest.

"Would it kill you to soak your dishes before you leave them in the sink?" She set the pot on the counter a little harder than necessary and began to scour the rest of the cutlery. Sam's footsteps faltered, then changed direction, and Cat could hear her breath as she came up behind her.

"What's all this?" Sam soothed, wrapping her arms around her waist in an easy, familiar motion. Cat, overwhelmed with a sudden feeling of claustrophobia, shrugged her off.

"The apartment's a fucking mess, Sam," she snapped. "If you would just pull your weight it would never get to this state."

Her partner's body tightened in an instant, her arms settling defensively across her chest. "Come on, Cat, lighten up," she said. "What's with you anyhow? You've been tight as a whipcord the last couple of days." When Cat stayed silent, she pressed on. "Is it Alistair then?"

Alistair was part of it, and Frankie was part of it, and the throbbing headache that had been building in Cat's temples all day was part of it, so Cat shook her head. "I'm not being unreasonable if I don't want to live in a pigsty, am I?" She turned on her heel and stalked off towards the bedroom. Sam followed her.

"No, but you don't have to take it all out on me," she replied stiffly. "I love you, Cat, and I want to help."

In any other situation, Sam's words would have snapped Cat out of her self-centered tizzy and begun to calm her down. But all Cat could think of was Frankie, with her touches and hot breath on her skin, saying the same thing. "I love you, Cat."

"If you really want to help than you should just get out of my way and let me clean," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. She felt rather than heard Sam's sudden intake of breath, and Cat looked up to see hurt in her partner's eyes, glistening sharply for a moment before melting into anger.

"Fine then. I'll leave you alone with your real love. Just don't expect any from me tonight, then."

She slammed the door behind her, and Cat sank onto the bed, tears hot behind her eyes.

"Great," she whispered. "Fucking great."

--

The alarm felt like a jackhammer against her skull. Cat took a deep, sleepy breath and coughed, reaching out blindly for the clock on her nightstand and then for the woman in bed next to her.

Sam's normal spot was empty, but still warm. Cat's stomach tightened briefly with guilt as last night's argument came rushing back. She had given up waiting for Sam to return and had gone to bed early, feeling suddenly and inexplicably exhausted. This morning wasn't much better. Her head ached, and her eyes were gritty and sore feeling.

After a shower she felt a little more human, but still not entirely ready to deal with Sam. Cat occupied herself tidying up in the bathroom, folding her towel three and four times before she was satisfied. She was about to start on the washcloths when there was a knock on the bathroom door.

"Cat, I've got to shower, hurry up." Sam's voice was cross, and Cat closed her eyes for a moment as guilt flashed through her again.

"Coming," she called back, and coughed as the words caught in her throat. She opened the door and found herself face to face with her partner, easily within kissing distance. Sam's eyes darted to Cat's lips and back up again, then she blinked and brushed past her, slamming the door between them without another word.

Cat busied herself with making tea as the water ran in the other room, rushing through the walls in a soothing flow that usually put her at ease. Not today. Normally she would be in there with Sam, their bodies hot and slippery and smelling like Cat's shampoo.

As her tea leaves began to bleed into the surrounding water, Cat paused to pinch at the bridge of her nose. Her head was killing her. Was she getting a migraine? The aroma of the tea curled through the air, warm and comforting, and Cat's nose began to run. She reached for a paper towel just as a tickle began to blossom deep in her sinuses.

She snatched the paper towel and got it to her nose just in time. "Ehtschoo!" Cat sniffled, dazed. "Bless me," she said automatically, and winced at how hoarse her voice sounded. Oh lord, was she really getting sick?

"Ohhh, fuck this," she sighed, then drew a quick, high inhale as her chest seized in preparation for another sneeze. "Ek'kchee!"

"God bless you."

Cat peered up and over the paper towel, eyes watering, to see a toweled Sam pause in the doorway of the bathroom. She avoided her gaze as she blew her nose in the now-slightly-damp paper towel and tossed it in the bin. "Thanks."

Sam was watching her, hair hanging limp and wet around her muscled shoulders. She seemed as if she was about to say something, but then she stalked off to the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Cat closed her eyes briefly.

Today was going to be a fun one, she thought, and coughed.

Edited April 13, 2014 by Winged

[Flower101]

This is great! I don't watch the show, but I love this fic!

[sugarrush]

i like never watched the show either or the L-word..but I have seen some bette/tina clips on youtube so i guess that kinda counts and now i'm wondering who will end up taking care of cat..

[tFM!]

YESSSSS. So nice to see a Lip Service fic on here. More please?

[Yuuki]

I haven't seen the show neither l-world but the fic looks amazing.

More? *O*

[Bruyere]

Lip Service! I <3 Heather Peace.

"Ohhh, fuck this," she sighed, then drew a quick, high inhale as her chest seized in preparation for another sneeze. "Ek'kchee!"

I love this sneeze for Cat.

[Winged]

Wheee thanks for all the replies, everyone!! I'm pleased that this story is getting such good reception. It's awesome to find some fellow Lip Service fans, and thanks a bunch to those of you who are sticking around without having seen the show! I'm trying to write this so you don't have to have much of a grasp on the plot to keep up, so please let me know if you get confused or lost.

And Bruyere <3 I feel like I always struggle with sneeze spellings, so thank you for that lovely feedback.

--

Chapter Two

Cat shivered and coughed into her fist for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. "When it rains, it pours," her mother had always said and, huddled in her ice-cold office, Cat was beginning to believe it.

The heater was out, Alistair had told them this morning, so if they didn't have pressing accounts to keep them at work he supposed they could call it a day. It was, after all, below freezing outside.

But Cat wasn't about to throw in the towel after all the flak Alistair had been giving her lately. She had work to do, damn it, and a chilly office wasn't going to stop her. A chilly office, she amended as she paused to sneeze into the crook of her elbow, and an unmistakable cold.

"Bless you." Jay slid into his chair and set a steaming mug on the desk in front of her. Cat eyed him for a moment, curious.

"I'm surprised to see you still here," she said, wrapping her icy fingers around the warm ceramic with a little shiver of relief. "Normally you're the first out the door when Alistair calls it."

Jay rolled his shoulders in an easy shrug. "I've got things I can be doing."

Cat could read between the words. "Becky's still not happy with you, eh?"

Jay casually flipped her the finger and began to spin in his chair. "I would ask the same of you, but everyone knows that Catherine MacKenzie never takes so much as a sick day."

How appropriate. Cat turned her eyes back to her computer screen. She only had time to glance over a single column of numbers before her body decided to rebel again, and she tented her fingers over her nose to catch a soft, "Hmmp-chuhh."

"Bless you," Jay said automatically, and Cat gave him a half smile as she reached for the bottle of hand sanitizer she had sitting on the corner of her desk.

"Thangs." She tried to clear her throat, but it turned into a deep, harsh cough that tore at her chest and left her panting. Jay watched her with a growing look of concern.

"You really don't take a sick day, do you." He spoke it with a quiet, bemused certainty that made Cat feel simultaneously defensive and ashamed.

"I'm all right, Jay," she said. "Go back to your work."

Instead, he reached across her desk and pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. Cat flinched away from the touch, but not before he felt the heat of her skin.

"You're sick as a dog, Cat," he said, then chuckled at his unintentional play on words. "Go home and let Sam take care of you."

"She's at work," Cat said shortly. "And I'm fine."

Jay, appearing to realize that a different tact was necessary, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head. "Do you really want to give Alistair another reason to be pissed at you?"

"I never gave him a reason to begin with, except for the fact that I'm gay," Cat snapped, her voice going hoarse. She stopped again to cough, and when she resurfaced she saw Jay looking at her with the beginnings of an I-told-you-so expression.

"You smug bastard," Cat muttered, but her gaze was borderline fond. "If I didn't feel like shit, I'd take you down a peg or two."

"So you do feel like shit," Jay said, his grin broadening. "Am I allowed to claim a victory point?"

"Perhaps," Cat allowed as she began to slide paperwork into her briefcase. "Could you tell Alistair I went home sick, please?"

"Of course, darlin'." Jay touched the back of her hand with soft fingers, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Feel better, all right? Let that cop girlfriend of yours dress up in a different uniform for once."

If Cat's head weren't swimming, she would have had a snappier retort, but instead she just sighed and flicked him a wave.

Maybe Sam would be home, Cat thought as she stepped out onto the street and pulled her overcoat more tightly around her. Maybe she would have forgiven her for last night. She was getting sick, after all - Sam would understand.

By the time she had made it back to her flat, Cat was shivering so hard her teeth were chattering, and all she could think about was Sam and her warm embrace that would undoubtedly be waiting.

"Sam?" she called as she closed the door behind her, her hands shaking as she slipped out of her coat. "Sam?" Her voice caught on her worn throat, and she began to cough into her hands, too cold and tired to think about proper hygiene. She had expected Sam to appear at the sound of her coughing, but as she regained her breath, she realized that she was still alone.

"Sam?" Her voice was softer now, a little more pathetic, as she moved into the kitchen. There was a sheet of paper sitting on the counter, scrawled with Sam's sharp handwriting.

Stakeout with Ryder. Working late.

It wasn't even signed. Cat sank back against the counter, tears pricking at her eyes. Her nose had begun to run again, and she ducked her head against her shoulder to catch a quick "H'eschh-uhh" as the congestion building in her sinuses began to come loose. Another tickle seized her nose just as quickly as the first had gone, and she froze, panting in anticipation as her lungs prepared for the sneeze that would not come.

On instinct, Cat squinted up at the kitchen light above her. It sent a prick through her sinuses like an electric shock, and she doubled over, her hands cupped over her nose as the sneezes burst forth. "Ehh'shuh! H-Huh'EKH-shee."

Her nose and eyes were streaming as she straightened and found another paper towel. She blew her nose and winced. She needed to get something softer if she was going to keep doing this, and as of now it certainly didn't show any sign of letting up.

On a whim, she pulled her phone from her pocket and opened a new text message to Frankie. She hadn't heard from her lover today, but that wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. Frankie was a bit like a feline; when you wanted her, she was nowhere to be found. She had to come to you of her own accord. Except when it came to Cat. She would always come to Cat.

Is your day going as shit as mine is? Hope not. xx

Cat sent the message and slipped her phone back into her pocket. She wanted tea, and she wanted to nap. Hopefully this damn cold would let her.

--

"…and I swear, if that woman wasn't already such a slut, I would say that she needs to get laid, because maybe then she'd get off my back!"

"Mmmhm," Frankie hummed noncommittally, listening more to the cadence of her keyboard than to Tess's rant. Tess was pacing the kitchen of their flat, her heels clicking against the floor in an agitated staccato as her voice rose and fell with the intensity of her words - Frankie wasn't paying much attention to what she was actually saying.

Her phone vibrated against her hip, and she shifted on the couch to free it from her pocket. Cat MacKenzie: iMessage.

She couldn't help the little smile that crept onto her face at the sight of that name. Her lovely Cat. She tapped open the message.

Is your day going as shit as mine is? Hope not. xx

Typical Cat. She had never been great about taking time for herself, so every once and a while life would catch up with her and simply overwhelm her for a few days. It had been like that since they were in school together. Poor, perfectionist Cat.

Frankie typed out a quick reply: Sorry to hear that, love. What's up?

She eyed it for a moment, torn, then went back and deleted the 'love.' Cat tended to get twitchy with terms of endearment. Frankie guessed that made sense, but it wasn't like they weren't already sleeping together. Little soft words here and there were nothing.

"Good thing you're not even listening to me," Tess grumbled, breaking into Frankie's focus. She glanced up, managing to look affronted.

"I am so! You're complaining about Cora, or whatever her name is. The bitch you work with, with the saggy tits."

"Nora," Tess corrected, but she smiled. "Fine, fine. Sorry." She flopped down into an armchair with a frustrated huff. "It's just -- I should be enjoying myself, you know? I have the role of a lifetime, and I'm letting this petty stage whore get under my skin."

Frankie shrugged in response, glancing back at her phone as it buzzed in her hand. Cat again.

I'm home from work with the plague, and Sam and I had a row so she's not even here to fuss over me and let me feel sorry for myself.

Frankie was mid-reply when another message from Cat popped up.

I'm sorry I'm complaining to you. I just feel like hell and don't have anyone else to whine to.

"Who's that?" Tess asked as Frankie began to type out a new reply.

"Sadie," Frankie lied, naming her ex from a fortnight ago. "She's got a lead on a job and wants me to come with."

Tess sent her a sideways glance. "Really? I thought you two were pretty thoroughly done."

"'S what I thought too, but I guess not," Frankie said quickly, pocketing her phone and rummaging around the couch cushions for her keys. "I'm gonna go meet her, then."

"Good luck?" Tess offered, still looking rather doubtful.

"Hopefully I won't need it," Frankie said, mostly under her breath. On a whim, she stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a handful of tea bags from Tess's bizarre collection of herbal blends. Cat liked tea. Maybe she'd like this weird gogi berry shit.

Edited November 19, 2013 by Winged

[tFM!]

Oooooh, I sense Frankie cuddles in the near future Please continue!

[White Rose]

I LOVE lip service! It's so awesome to see a fic! Seriously, SO adorable, please, please please, continue?

Please?

[Arty]

Oooh..heard of the show but never watched it. Now usually I read male fics. But im lovin this!!

[zaiphon]

I dont know about this show but I think the story's great!

[Yuuki]

amazing cant wait the taking care and cuddles part *O*

[Winged]

Wow, thanks for all the lovely reviews! No new update at the moment -- I'm a super slow writer to begin with, and I have finals all next week and the week after, but I'm hoping to get in some writing as a break between studying <3 thank you thank you THANK YOU for reading and commenting, particularly those who haven't seen the show but are sticking with me anyway! All of you rock.

[Winged]

I've been in a super fetishy mood lately (what can I say, it's spring), so I decided to pull this little gem out of my documents and keep working on it! It's a little short, but it's better than nothing. Hope you enjoy!

--

Chapter Three

Cat honestly didn't think that she had ever been this cold in her life. Her frigid office combined with the rain on her walk home had left her saturated and shivery, not to mention it seemed to have exacerbated her cold. She squeezed her tea tighter, as if she could soak up the mug's warmth and redistribute it through her body.

"Hh'EKK'shu!" She sneezed towards her shoulder, too weary and bone-cold to move her hands from her tea. Why the hell didn't she have any tissues in this damn flat? Her nose was running freely now, and she sniffled half-heartedly, already regretting it as the shifting congestion brought another sneeze to the surface. "HKK'shuu."

"Fuggk," she swore hoarsely, setting her tea on the counter against her back to grab yet another paper towel. Her poor nose was on fire - swollen, stuffy, and getting raw from ceaseless contact with the paper towels - and she winced as she buried it in the rough fibers to blow. Her ears popped painfully from the change in pressure, and Cat bit back a whimper.

I get it, universe, I've fucked up. Thanks for the reminder.

Fuzzy-headed and feeling sorry for herself, Cat almost missed the knock at the door. She swallowed back a flood of panic (she must look like shit - whoever it was was going to find her disgusting) and did her best to clean herself up before going to answer it.

She didn't know who she had expected, but it certainly wasn't Frankie. Her lover had drawn up her hood against the cold, and her blonde hair was an endearing combination of tousled and slicked back from the rain. Her eyes were bright, and she completed the picture of lazy grace by leaning her weight to one hip and giving Cat a smile that only looked a little bit nervous.

"Hey love," she greeted her, her voice low and soft. It sent shivers straight to Cat's spine -- though she tried to reason it off to the fever that she had probably spiked by now. "How're you feeling?"

"Frankie, you can't be here!" Cat hissed, panicked, glancing quickly down the hall behind her. "What if Sam comes home?"

"Didn't you say she was pissed at you? She may be taking her sweet time, then." Frankie paused and made a face. "Sorry, that was rude, wasn't it."

Cat bristled. "If you're trying to get me to let you in, you're doing a shit job of it." She crossed her arms tightly against her chest, though something within her was beginning to warm.

Frankie shifted her weight again and presented a crumpled paper bag with the shy eagerness of a child at show-and-tell. "I brought tea?"

And that was that -- Cat couldn't help but smile. She stepped to the side and let Frankie pass by her into the apartment. As their hips brushed in the doorway, Frankie turned her head to the side and pressed a gentle kiss to Cat's cheek that made the other woman shiver happily.

"I'm not really in the mood, just warning," Cat said, closing the door behind them and punctuating her statement with a chesty cough. Frankie shot her a glance, concerned.

"You do look a little rough, not going to lie."

"Thanks for the vote of -- uh'hh -- of -- aaeh-SHOO! Ugh, bless mbe. The vodte of codfidence." Cat sniffled.

"Poor Cat." Frankie clicked her tongue and reached back to twine their fingers together. "You work yourself too hard, you know that?"

"Well you don't work at all," Cat muttered, allowing Frankie to lead her towards the couch. She had taken a total of two steps before Frankie drew her close and pressed their lips together in a hungry kiss. Cat obliged, parting her lips before she remembered she couldn't breathe through her nose, and therefore kissing probably wasn't the best idea. She pulled away, albeit reluctantly.

"Frankie, I'm sick," she pleaded, holding Frankie at arm's length as her lover's eyes flicked over her face, dark with desire. "And I'm disgusting, and I'm not exactly sexy."

"Nonsense." Frankie made as if to kiss Cat again when the brunette's breath hitched and she ducked her head to her shoulder with a sharp "ek'chee!"

"See?" Cat said thickly when she resurfaced, her hand cupped over her nose. "I'b gross." She shrugged off Frankie's touch and all but fled to the kitchen to wash her hands. Frankie followed.

"I'm sorry, love, you're right," she said, her voice edging over the rush of the water into the sink basin. "You should be resting, you must feel like shite."

However, the scent of the hand soap was enough to provoke Cat's irritated nose into action, and she grabbed a washrag from the sink just in time to catch a fit of four: far beyond her usual single. "Huh'ASH'uh, esh'uh'eshoo! EEYHK-sh'uu!"

She stayed there for a moment, panting, washrag held to her nose as the fuzziness in her head began to pulse into a headache. All she wanted to do was sleep. She hardly noticed Frankie's wrist pressed to her forehead.

"Jesus, Cat, you really have got the plague," she whistled. "C'mon, let's get you out of these work clothes and into something more comfortable."

In a daze, Cat complied, largely unaware of Frankie's bare skin against her own as the blonde helped her undress. To her credit, Frankie didn't try anything: instead, she pulled a pair of sweatpants from the closet and held Cat's shoulder to steady her as the younger girl slid them on. Once Cat was wrapped up, Frankie led her back to the couch and settled her amongst the pillows.

"Thangs, Frankie," Cat said, her consonants dulling with congestion. Frankie dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead as she passed behind the sofa towards the kitchen. Soon the kettle was whistling, and Cat roused herself from her half-slumber to take a mug of fresh tea.

"I'm sorry I'm so boring," she said pitifully, her fingers curling on the warm ceramic. Frankie rolled her eyes and pulled Cat's feet into her lap as she settled onto the couch beside her.

"Tess was whining about her costar again, so to be honest I appreciated the break."

Cat let out a wheezy laugh that quickly turned into a cough. When it began to seem like she couldn't catch a breath, Frankie wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close.

"Breathe with me, baby, you're okay." Cat struggled to obey, her frame shaking with the effort, and as she began to regain her breath Frankie pressed her lips to her forehead, still worryingly warm.

"I'm going to get you some cold medicine, all right?"

Their bathroom cabinet was tidy and organized, like everything in Cat's apartment, yet it still took Frankie a few minutes to find the appropriate medications. Ibuprofen for the fever, as well as the sinus headache that Cat inevitably had. She would catch colds nearly every winter back when they were in school, and Frankie knew her patterns. She also pulled some cough syrup and decongestant to be safe.

Cat was mostly asleep when Frankie returned with the medicines, and the blonde had to coax her into taking the pills and liquid. After she did, however, Cat fell easily into slumber. Frankie curled up on the couch next to her and settled her head into the hollow of Cat's neck, fingers gently stroking her chocolate-colored locks as she watched her lover's chest rise and fall.

--

Cat woke hours later, disoriented, to the sound of a door slamming. She wriggled her arm loose from her tangle of blankets and rubbed at her eyes.

"Frankie?" She called out, though her throat was sore enough that she couldn't make a sound.

"Sorry I'm late, Ryder and I got drinks." Sam's voice came from the entry hall, her tone alerting Cat that their earlier quarrel had not been forgotten. She stalked into sight of the living room and stopped in her tracks when she found Cat on the sofa.

Cat's nose too chose that moment to awake from slumber. She closed her eyes as a tickle pulsed through her sinuses and directed a thick, forceful sneeze into the crook of her arm. "H'ISSH'uh. Ugh. Sorry Sab, I'b kide of disgustig."

The tension in Sam's shoulders melted away almost instantly, and she came to kneel next to Cat. "Baby, are you sick?"

"Seebs like idt," Cat sniffled, rubbing at her nose with the sleeve of her shirt like a child. Sam pressed her hand to her cheek.

"You feel warm, but not too bad. Did you take anything?" She asked, catching sight of the medicine on the coffee table. Cat nodded.

"I'b not sure how long ago, though -- I fell asleep."

Sam took Cat's hand between hers and began to gently massage it. "Don't worry about, love. Let's get you to bed, all right?"

Cat was going to start the slow process of disentangling herself from her nest when Sam scooped her up, blankets and all, and carried her bridal-style to their bedroom.

"Poor love, that's why you were so upset with me last night, isn't it? You were ill. I wish you had told me."

"I was hopig it would go away," Cat replied, the rocking motion of her girlfriend's arms lulling her back towards sleep. Her eyes slid closed once more, and she felt Sam's lips on her forehead.

"Hush, love, I'm going to take care of you. Now sleep."

And Cat slept.

[tFM!]

Yesssss, thank you for updating this. Definitely made my day.

[Bruyere]

Yay! Glad to see you've updated this and I must have missed Chapter 2 going up as well.

"You're sick as a dog, Cat," he said, then chuckled at his unintentional play on words.

Ha!

"Fuggk," she swore hoarsely, setting her tea on the counter against her back to grab yet another paper towel. Her poor nose was on fire - swollen, stuffy, and getting raw from ceaseless contact with the paper towels - and she winced as she buried it in the rough fibers to blow. Her ears popped painfully from the change in pressure, and Cat bit back a whimper.

I love how miserable Cat is here.

[White Rose]

So adorable!! I can't wait for the next chapter!!!