Novel & Cerita Katherine Pierce Gif

Finally, Katherine sashayed into the room, paused for effect, and squealed excitedly when she saw me. In two strides, I was at her side. She pulled me into a hug which I returned enthusiastically. We pulled away at the same time, still holding on to each other by our fingertips. Katherine fit in right away. With her big, designer sunglasses which covered half her face, her artistically ripped, tight jeans, blouse, and matching bag, she looked almost like a model herself. I told her so and she shrugged it off with a laugh. "I can't come here looking sloppy," she said. "Wouldn't want the media here to paint me as some wack friend of yours from the back end of a town, would you?"

"I bet she’s going to puke all over her nice truck before we even get to the main road." "Hey!" Katherine protested, though her eyes were half closed. "I can answer for myself, Lysa." She turned her gaze to Ezekiel and gave him a lopsided grin. "Mr. Gorgeous, Handsome Prince... I had lots of beers, a Long Island iced tea, then more beers, and some shots." "Oh," she added, "and there was this one bubbly purple thing. It was the exact color of that dinosaur on the kids' show and—"

I told Ethan, trying to sound tough. ​He released me immediately. The second his support left, my balance completely failed, and I stumbled sideways. Ethan caught me effortlessly, pulling me back against his chest before I could hit the pavement. ​"Typically Katherine," he muttered, a low chuckle vibrating against his chest. "Always acting like she's a hero." ​"Yes, I'm Wonder Woman," I informed him proudly. ​He let out another short laugh, and I glared up at him. "Who's laughing with you?"

I slowly lifted my head despite the pain and focused my blurred vision forward. Katherine stood a few steps away from me, an arrogant smile stretching across her face. She wore an oversized hoodie, the fabric stained and wrinkled, nothing like the elegant outfits she used to parade around in. The woman who once carried herself like royalty now looked disheveled and unhinged. Her hair was messy, her clothes dirty, and there was a wild, unstable gleam in her eyes that made her look almost unrecognizable. “The once proud woman,” she continued mockingly, circling me slowly, “who thought everything was going perfectly for her is now tied up in this pathetic state. How does it feel, Grace?”

Just tired. "Did we love him then?" the memory asked. Katherine thought of Jack in the kitchen. Jack at the gala. Jack standing between her and monsters. Jack refusing to command her even when terror begged him to. "No," Katherine said. "But we had already begun owing him the truth." Memory Katherine nodded once. Then she dissolved into silver light. The dining room opened. Katherine returned to the nursery with the receipt in hand. Haley was holding Pierce's oxygen tube. Susan was hitting black paper roots with a chair. Aaliyah was screaming directions. Everything was chaos.

Jarel Hall asked Katherine. "What are you guys doing? Leave me, I have to go" Katherine tried to leave. When she tried to leave, Grace Winter punched her stomach. Katherine fell on the ground clutching her stomach. The pain almost killed her. "Didn't you heard what Jarel said? You can't escape from us, Katherine" Grace gave another punch on her face. Grace Winter always jealous of Katherine. Because Katherine was the prettiest girl in the school, her family was rich and she always comes first in class.

She makes fleeting eye contact with me, and turns back to the guy, obviously ignoring me. My mother says something to me, and the Congressman's wife puts her hand on my arm, but I can't hear what either of them are saying. Everything fades as I watch Katherine lean forward, with her hand on his arm, then tuck her hair behind her ear, tilting her head down as she bites her lip and smiles. That smile is what does it for me. That smile is what kills me. It pushes me beyond the pale, and I’m done.

"You said this would fix things. It had better." Footsteps on the stairs. Coming closer. The bedroom door swings open. Katherine Hawthorne steps into the room, and for a moment, everything stops. She's even more stunning up close than she is across a crowded campus. Forty-five years old and carved from marble — tall, ice-blonde, cheekbones that could cut glass, lips painted a red so dark it's almost black. She's wearing a cream cashmere coat that probably cost more than my car, pearls at her throat that scream old money.

“I see anger in your eyes. You came for revenge. But you are not allowed to bring a weapon here, much less spill blood. I rebuke you, you have no place for this—” Katherine laughed, and it sounded like a thing that had been saved up for a long time. She moved down those few worn steps with the economy of someone who has rehearsed violence in the mirror. She closed the distance between us with an easy, terrible grace. “Enough of the dramas, old priest,” she snapped, as if she were clearing away props. Her smile flicked once, cold and quick, then gone. She stood over me, the knife glinting in her hand like an accusation.

I sit on my bed and stare at them. ... "Do you like pink?" Katherine asks with a big smile on her face. I can tell that she likes color pink because of how bright her smile is. She holds up one of the dresses she pulled out of the big box she brought along with her when she came into the room with Tiana. The dress is gorgeous. It is short and small, in a regal fairytale way. I can not even express how gorgeous it is. It is as if it has some sort of magic attached to it and I stare at it with awe.