The Ultimate Outlaw : A TTIHAY Fic
Title: The Ultimate Outlaw
Fandom: Ten Things I Hate About You
Characters/Pairings: Kat/Patrick
Rating: T
Word Count: 351
Summary: The morning after Patrick spends the night with Kat.
Author's Note: I wrote this in December. It's my first ever fanfic.
"Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet." - Tom Robbins
"This doesn't make us a… thing, you know." Kat says as his shirt slips off her shoulder revealing her perfect olive skin.
"Yeah, whatever you say, princess." he replies sitting on the edge of her mattress, slipping his boots on.
With his bare back to her she finds herself smiling. She knows she seems like the other foolish girls he hooks up with, but she can't help but feel different. Did Patrick Verona ever save their record collections? The music those girls liked probably wasn't even worthy of vinyl. Her head is spinning, this isn't like her, she doesn't remember the last time she was this happy. When her mother was alive? Had it been that long? Kat wishes her mom was here, wishes she could tell her all about Patrick. Ugh, why was she letting him make her so sappy!
His harsh voice breaks the silence as he shifts his weight off her bed.
"Shirt please."
"Turn around…"
"You're kidding, right? It's not like I didn't see it all last night."
"Shut up, do you want the damn shirt o-or…. not?" His sculpted body is distracting as his muscles reflect the morning sun coming through her window.
She notices scratches down his chest where blood once flowed but now appeared to have dried. "Oh my God, Patrick! What happened!?"
A wide grin forms on his face, "You mean you don't remember?" He chuckles, "You happened. I'm not surprised, you're always finding new, creative ways to hurt me."
"You should let me clean them up, it's the least I could do." Kat says, a smile teasing at the edges of her mouth.
"Nah, I've gotta split. And I can sense that I'm not getting my shirt back anytime soon, so just remember to wash it for me, housewife."
We're not even a couple yet and he expects me to do all his domesticated-stereotypical-feminine bullshit tasks, Kat thought to herself. The truth was she never wanted to wash it. She breathes in deep cherishing the way it smells like cigarette smoke and sweat as she falls back to sleep.
Fandom: Ten Things I Hate About You
Characters/Pairings: Kat/Patrick
Rating: T
Word Count: 351
Summary: The morning after Patrick spends the night with Kat.
Author's Note: I wrote this in December. It's my first ever fanfic.
"Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet." - Tom Robbins
"This doesn't make us a… thing, you know." Kat says as his shirt slips off her shoulder revealing her perfect olive skin.
"Yeah, whatever you say, princess." he replies sitting on the edge of her mattress, slipping his boots on.
With his bare back to her she finds herself smiling. She knows she seems like the other foolish girls he hooks up with, but she can't help but feel different. Did Patrick Verona ever save their record collections? The music those girls liked probably wasn't even worthy of vinyl. Her head is spinning, this isn't like her, she doesn't remember the last time she was this happy. When her mother was alive? Had it been that long? Kat wishes her mom was here, wishes she could tell her all about Patrick. Ugh, why was she letting him make her so sappy!
His harsh voice breaks the silence as he shifts his weight off her bed.
"Shirt please."
"Turn around…"
"You're kidding, right? It's not like I didn't see it all last night."
"Shut up, do you want the damn shirt o-or…. not?" His sculpted body is distracting as his muscles reflect the morning sun coming through her window.
She notices scratches down his chest where blood once flowed but now appeared to have dried. "Oh my God, Patrick! What happened!?"
A wide grin forms on his face, "You mean you don't remember?" He chuckles, "You happened. I'm not surprised, you're always finding new, creative ways to hurt me."
"You should let me clean them up, it's the least I could do." Kat says, a smile teasing at the edges of her mouth.
"Nah, I've gotta split. And I can sense that I'm not getting my shirt back anytime soon, so just remember to wash it for me, housewife."
We're not even a couple yet and he expects me to do all his domesticated-stereotypical-feminine bullshit tasks, Kat thought to herself. The truth was she never wanted to wash it. She breathes in deep cherishing the way it smells like cigarette smoke and sweat as she falls back to sleep.