⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅• The cold light of a winter morning streamed through the kitchen window, casting a soft glow on the pristine countertops. The mansion was quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of Katherine's knife against the cutting board. She was humming to herself, the tune soft and melodic, filling the still air with a gentle warmth. The scent of fresh vegetables mingled with the faint aroma of coffee that lingered from earlier. Her breath fogged the chilled window briefly as she leaned in to glance at the snow-covered landscape outside. Katherine's sweater hugged her frame, her hair tucked behind her ears as she worked steadily, enjoying the solitude. Then, without warning, warmth engulfed her. Strong arms snaked around her waist, pulling her gently but firmly against a hard chest. She froze for a moment, the knife hovering over the cucumber, before a familiar chuckle rumbled near her ear. "You're up early," Castiel murmured, his voice low and rich, laced with a teasing undertone.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅• Caroline tilted her head, as if considering the question for the first time. “Want?” she echoed, feigning innocence. “Can’t a sister simply drop by for a friendly visit?” Katherine’s laugh was humorless. “You’re about as friendly as a snake.” Caroline grinned, clearly enjoying the tension she was stirring. “Oh, Kathy, you always did have such a flair for dramatics,” she said, standing up and smoothing down her perfectly tailored outfit. “Fine. You want the truth? I came to... offer you some advice.” “Advice?” Katherine repeated, crossing her arms. “I can’t wait to hear this.” Caroline stepped closer, her smile taking on a razor-sharp edge. “Let it go. Whatever little plans you’re cooking up against Castiel and me? Drop them. You’re only going to embarrass yourself.” Katherine’s breath caught, but she recovered quickly, her anger hardening into resolve. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said evenly, though her voice quivered at the edges. “Oh, please,
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•Katherine stood at the door, clutching her purse as Zayn followed her with the kind of casual arrogance that seemed embedded in his DNA. The lunch had been good—almost annoyingly good—but she wasn’t about to let that sway her decision.“Thanks for lunch, Zayn,” Katherine said, her tone polite but guarded. “You might’ve managed to not poison me, so I suppose that’s worth a small victory celebration.”Zayn leaned against the doorframe, smirking down at her. “You keep hurting me, Katherine. I’m an excellent cook, but you refuse to admit it because it doesn’t fit your whole ‘Zayn’s just a pretty face with a big ego’ narrative.”Katherine chuckled, for him to assume she saw him as a pretty face...she did find him pretty, very good looking as well. And he knew that, he was much too confident for his own good.Katherine raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I admit it. The food was good. Almost too good. Makes me wonder who you bribed to teach you how to use a stove.”“You really can’t just
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•Caroline stirred awake as sunlight filtered through the thin lace curtains of the bedroom. She squinted, groaning softly as she felt the dull ache of a restless night settle in her body. Rolling over to the other side of the bed, she reached out, instinctively expecting to find Castiel lying next to her. Her hand met cold, empty white sheets instead.Her eyes fluttered open fully, taking in the perfectly made bed on his side. For a moment, she stared at it, her mind groggy, until realization struck like a slap in the face—he was gone. Again. No note, no goodbye, just his usual disappearing act, off to whatever work now seemed to take precedence over their dwindling relationship.Caroline sat up abruptly, running a hand through her disheveled dark hair. Frustration bubbled up in her chest. This was becoming a pattern—Castiel slipping away, leaving her to wake up alone, the passion between them nothing but a faint memory. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•Katherine slung her purse over her shoulder and glanced at Zayn, who was still leaning casually against the desk like he owned the place– which he did, his hazel eyes watching her intently. For someone who always seemed to be in control, there was something unnervingly relaxed about him now. It set her on edge.“Leaving already?” Zayn asked, his tone casual but edged with curiosity as he toyed with the empty whiskey glass.She paused mid-step, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’ve got things to do, Zayn,” she said lightly. “You’ve made your pitch, and now I need time to think.”Zayn smirked, tilting his head slightly as if weighing his next words. “No need to rush,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting. “Stay a little longer. I’ll cook you lunch.”Katherine blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. “You? Cooking?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a surprise. I thought you had a personal chef for that. Thea mentioned his name is... Franny, right?”Zayn pla
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•Katherine stayed seated, the leather of the chair cool against her back as she eyed Zayn warily. She set down the book she was thumbing through before he arrived, interrupting her fleeting moment of peace. Now he stood casually against the edge of the desk, his tailored blazer resting perfectly on his broad shoulders as though it were custom-built just for this moment.“I’ll cut right to the chase,” Zayn began, his tone smooth and confident. “I’ve devised a plan that should aid both of us in our quests.”He paused, studying her reaction. Katherine raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly forward as if daring him to continue. Zayn tilted his head, clearly unbothered by her skepticism. “Here’s the deal,” he said, his voice calm but direct. “My grandfather has this... requirement before he hands over the company. He wants me to settle down, find someone stable to be with, prove I’m responsible enough to manage his legacy.” He leaned back slightly, letti