"Each day, each day I play the role
Of someone always in control
But at night I come home and turn the key
There's nobody there, no one cares for me
What's the sense of trying hard to find your dreams
Without someone to share it with
Tell me what does it mean?
I wanna run to you (oooh)
I wanna run to you (oooh)
Won't you hold me in your arms
And keep me safe from harm
I want to run to you (oooh)
But if I come to you (oooh)"
-Run to You, Whitney HoustonKatya tapped her foot, slightly impatient as she waited in line, watching the older woman behind the bar pour out the two glasses of cabernet sauvignon with her arms folded across her chest. Katya knew you were getting a little bit tipsy, knew you could probably handle about two more glasses of wine before you would be rendered functionally useless and she would be picking you up and slinging you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes to get you out of there.
She turned and saw you emerging from the bathrooms. God, you were so beautiful. Katya felt her heart squeeze as though there was a fist around it as she watched you light up like a Christmas tree at the sight of her.
You were never any good at concealing your emotions, and the wine made you even more open, every single thought and emotion playing out on your beautiful face. And Katya, who had learned how to read you like a book, like the back of her own hand, could read every emotion you telegraphed in your face, in the set of your shoulders, in the way you would clench your jaw when you were trying not to lose your temper.
Katya waved at you, watched your smile widen before you bumped into a man passing you and seemed to drop something, your mouth narrowing into a comical "O" shape as your eyes flicked down to the ground. Katya huffed a laugh, watching you drop into a squat.
Someone stepped in front of you, blocking her view, and she turned back, counting out a couple of bills for the wine and smiling at the old woman, who was pushing the glasses across the counter.
She turned, again, unconsciously seeking you out. The person in front of you was female, with choppily-cut black hair, and something about it...Katya paused, her hands stilling on the cash in her hands. She could hear warning bells going off in her head, and her eyes narrowed. The woman reached out a hand, and you took it, smiling up at the woman and letting her help you to your feet.
The hairs on her arms rose, and Katya knew. She knew without a shadow of a doubt, and her hands were dropping the money on the counter as she turned on her heel, shoulders dropping and eyes shuttering as her right hand went automatically to the inside of her jacket, fingers brushing the grip of the Glock tucked in her shoulder holster.
The mask of the Reaper slid down, borne of over twenty years of deadly instincts that had been honed razor-sharp like the edge of a blade, and Katya's vision narrowed down onto you, your guileless, sweet smile and your soft, blushing cheeks, and her target. She was no longer Katya, and all the softness that you had so carefully coaxed out of her had suddenly disappeared down the barrel of the gun. She let herself become what she had been her whole life, a rabid, snarling dog on the end of a choke chain, but at the end of her leash was your sweet, soft hand, and your innocently smiling face looking up at the predator in front of you.
She was striding across the floor through the crowd, body moving on autopilot, every instinct in her body screaming at her to get over to you, to get you away, to get you to safety. The world had gone red and dark, and her vision sharpened as she threw elbows, shoving her way through the crowd, throwing people aside one by one and not even hearing their angry outbursts. Her heart was pounding, and all she heard was your name hammering against the insides of her skull like a prayer, like a drumbeat. Every muscle was tensed, and she let out a frustrated snarl as she shouldered someone aside.
YOU ARE READING
She's My Collar - Katya x Reader
Fanfiction"Whether you come as a lover or an executioner, I am ready to receive you." -The Carnivorous Lamb, Agustin Gomez-Arcos You are a former nurse living in Moscow and running from a troubled past. When an injured possible criminal stumbles into the bar...