She stomped into her quarters, ignoring Petal’s look of confusion, and slammed the door to her private room shut. Angry shut. More so then usual, with a rattle that shook the hinges and a curse that had she been a mage, would have likely turned some imp blue.
Fists clenched, teeth bared. Tears hovering on the edge of her expression. Stupid stupid stupid. That bitch. She should have figured. She should have….
Kun spun around, stormed out of her room, grabbed a handful of blank scrolls and a ink pot from her sister, again IGNORING Petal’s now worried and confused look and questions, stormed back inside her room, and threw the bits and pieces down onto a little writing desk. She took a deep breath. Looked around. A vase with dried flowers. A couple of potion flasks on the window sill. Very little in here that marked it as hers, as, well, a room, a living space of any particular person. She was in and out so often, either in Dalaran’s sewers, or in the pub, or on the job. She wasn’t much good at mixing her poisons, she had a couple recipes and jars that were kept firmly locked in a special box beneath her bed.
But the flasks on the window sill….
Kun grabbed one and was about to throw it out the window. Her paws clenched so tight the top cracked a little, and the scent wafted out, a droplet on her claw tip. She shuddered and set it down, and the energy in her focused inwards. She flopped herself down angrily in front of the writing desk instead and all but stabbed the quill into the inkpot. That drop, from the sweet smelling flask, dribbled into the pot unnoticed, and not thought of. A flurry of writing, a flick of quill and ink and Pandaren characters, normally so delicately drawn, slashed angrily across the scroll.
Damn you.
Crazy bitch.
You know I actually thought you were really damn hot? Like, really. Fuckin’ gorgeous. That tail. And those wings man. But you had to be a crazy bitch the way you are, some godsdamned fel infused pile of hot mess crazy, violent and dumb and… just fuckin’ around, right? Like what the hell was I thinking? And the stupid part of it all is my own damn fault. My own, for evening thinkin’ it and then not even actin’ on it because I’m a fuckin’ coward and I can’t even… whatever. Whatever. I thought I was right, takin’ it slow. You can’t even deny you’re a hot mess. I could see that, I thought it was somethin’ safe, testing out the waters, because I know you. I know that type. IYou’ve got some heavy shit going on that I can’t even begin to know, even with me spending half my time with a godsdamn bunch of ne’erdowells and thieves and murderers and that jackass yaogaui. I wanted to suss you out. I wanted to get to know you. I *liked* you, woman. I got it, despite all that. I’ve seen some of it. I was just gonna…
*tears smear the page here*
you know maybe even friends or something. Fuckin’ love to hang out and drink beers and cause trouble but naw, I don’t…. *more smudges here, and more frequently*
I don’t even know. What the hell was I thinking. Why couldn’t I just wanna have a fun tumble and then just be cool, no, I have to wanna get a damn crush and actually wanna do more or something. Maybe I was scared too of that hot mess you are…
*again with the tear smudges*
So the hell with it. Have your fun with her. I’m not gonna begrudge you that. I can’t…I can’t even…I mean, why am I even mad? It’s not like I made a move in time. Hell you even tried and I had to be a fuckin’ coward again and back off. Maybe she’s got something I ain’t. And hell, if it makes *you* feel better, I’m all for it. Just don’t be too much of a bitch and break her heart too. Fuck, forget about it. Don’t even fuckin’ think about me. I ain’t got a godsdamn right to shit with you.
Kun stared at the scrawled characters, for a while. Several minutes in fact, until the polite tapping at the door and the timid, worried voice of her sister brought her back. She heaved a breath, wiped her eyes, and shoved the paper off the desk in one angry motion. It settled behind some books without her seeing it. Stupid. She didn’t feel much better after writing that and gods forbid anyone actually read it. Or worse, if Ana ever saw it…
The emotion of earlier drained away. A little. She shuddered. Gods forbid.
“I’M FINE. I’M GOING OUT.”
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