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Fan Fic: Newton’s Third Law of Loving Thy Enemy (2/?) [LotS- Cara/Kahlan]

Title: Newton’s Third Law of Loving Thy Enemy (2/?)

Author: unbound001 

Pairing: Cara/Kahlan

Rating: PG-13

Words: 5,200

Warnings: None really 

Disclaimer: I don’t own Legend of the Seeker or the Sword of Truth, or the characters, or settings, or the plot, or even the likeness of anything associated with the Legend of the Seeker or the Sword of Truth. In short, I own nothing; I just like having fun with them...

Summary/AN: Modern college rivalry AU, based on this prompt at the lots_meme . In this part: Richard shares some wisdom, and Kahlan is maybe, quite possibly dating a Mord’Sith.

---

 

“You weren’t at my game,”

Kahlan flinches at the unexpected interruption, glancing up to find Cara leaning against her desk, arms crossed, and customary smirk playing on her lips. It’s unnerving how she manages to sneak up on Kahlan like that. It’s even more unnerving the way her fixed gaze unsettles Kahlan like nothing ever has. She hasn’t even seen her since the night she walked her to her hall, three months ago. She had pretty much figured she wouldn’t see her again, ever; yet, here she is, as familiar to Kahlan as if she had just seen her yesterday.     

Again,” Cara adds teasingly, leaning further against the desk, and dragging her winter uniform gloves distractingly across the polished wood. She taps her fingers against the desk, like she would a piano and Kahlan follows the movement like a fish to bait. She realises her mistake a moment too late when Cara’s lips quirk into a positively licentious smile. She’s trying to unsettle her, and Kahlan absolutely won’t let her!  

She wants to say how it wasn’t Cara’s game. It may have been a Mord-Sith home game, the very last game of the lacrosse season which the Mord-Sith team managed to tear through without a single loss, but Kahlan’s pretty sure there were 24 people on the field, 12 of which were from her own school, many of which she knows, so it definitely wasn’t Cara’s game. She also wants to mention how unbecoming arrogance is, particularly of a lady. Instead she says, 

“I was busy,”

Cara rolls her eyes, scooting back on the desk until she’s sitting.

“Are you still busy?” She asks.

She is. She’s got a speech in public speaking next week, plus two tests, and an advanced composition paper to start.  

She flips her Philosophy of Law text book closed anyway.

“No,” she says calmly. It’s a lie, and she’s a terrible liar, but Cara doesn’t point out the fact that she knows that, she just pulls Kahlan’s book towards her, glancing over the cover.

“Pre-law?”  She asks.

“Yep,” Kahlan admits. She narrows her eyes suspiciously a moment later. “Why? Are you pre-med?”

Cara scoffs, shaking her head, no.

It’s almost a relief to know this illicit friendship—if that’s what this can be called— isn’t even more illicit.

Kahlan glances around the desolate Midlands’ library as Cara idly flips through her book. This is where she always comes to study, the basement of the library where no one ever really goes unless they’re looking for a really old legal document. Even then, Kahlan’s never really seen anybody else down here, which begs the question: 

“How’d you find me down here anyway?”

Cara shrugs, glancing up from the book.

“I asked around.”

“Cara!” Kahlan exclaims, well, really whispers—it may be the basement of the library, but it’s still the library. The idea of Cara “asking around” for her is absolutely insane. Cara isn’t even supposed to be on the Midlands’ campus—especially since today’s game was at Mordlin-Sithers—and since she is here, Kahlan expects her to use the utmost caution not to get caught—for her own good really, and Kahlan’s; Kahlan doesn’t even want to imagine what the other Confessors would say if they saw her talking to a Mord’Sith, especially this Mord’Sith—but “asking around” for her is counterproductive to not being caught; in fact, it’s practically a death wish.   

Cara shrugs again, unfazed by the exclamation.

“You’d be surprised what people will tell and then swear not to re-tell once you’ve scared them shitless,” she says casually.

“Cara!” Kahlan exclaims again, but for an entirely different reason this time. Cara doesn’t appear to have her lacrosse stick with her, but the implications are clear and going around and hurting people with her lacrosse stick is absolutely unacceptable.  

“Verbal threats only,” Cara replies, placating Kahlan’s outrage. “Scouts honour,” she adds, when it appears Kahlan isn’t entirely convinced.  

Kahlan still purses her lips in distaste. She doesn’t know too Cara well—Cara’s made sure of that, what with her two word answers to every question Kahlan asked while she was walking her to her hall that one night— but Kahlan would be willing to bet money on the fact that Cara has never been a scout.

“Besides,” Cara’s says, lips quirking beneath a suppressed amused smile, “You “stole” something from me; they probably think I’ve come to get my revenge,”

“Have you?” Kahlan asks, suddenly serious. She hasn’t asked many questions of Cara, mainly because Cara won’t answer them even if she did ask, but Kahlan’s not a particularly naïve girl. Cara helping her was uncharacteristic, amicable even for a Mord’Sith; Cara’s continued social interest in her is beyond amicable, suspicious even, and Kahlan would be foolish if she weren’t even a little wary.

“Have I what?”

“Come to get your revenge?”

Cara scoffs, rolling her eyes as if the notion is absurd.

“Trust me,” she slides Kahlan’s book back to her, finding and holding her gaze with an intensity that makes Kahlan’s breastbone thrum with the sheer force of her heartbeat. “I’d make no secret of it if I had,” Pride colours her tone, making the words sound harsh and tactless, but there’s a fierce sincerity in her pride, and Kahlan respects that; she trusts it even.  

Still, she’s curious, and curiosity may very well lead to end of her, but she can’t help but to ask it.  

“What have you come for, Cara?”

She steels herself for an answer, any answer, as long as it’s the truth.

“Come out with me tomorrow night,” It’s not a question; it’s not a demand either, but it’s definitely not a question. It’s a statement of sorts, a surety, like it’s something Kahlan’s already agreed to. It’s also an evasion, but Kahlan is used to Cara’s evasions in the way she’s oddly used to Cara, even though she barely knows her.

Maybe that’s what possesses her to nod her head in agreement, because she can’t possibly fathom what else it could be, except maybe that Cara’s presence seems to counterbalance her common sense. This effect Cara has on her should be all the more reason to dissuade her from making these bad decisions, but even the most logical of thoughts can’t stop the corners of her lips from tugging into a smile.

“Ok,” she adds voice to her agreement. “Where?”

Cara smirks, grabbing a pen from between the spirals of Kahlan’s long forgotten notebook.

“How about,” Cara uncaps the pen, taking hold of Kahlan’s arm with gloved fingertips. The odd sensation of leather on skin almost makes Kahlan shiver, the gentle wisp of pen point as Cara glides the pen across skin actually does. “You call me,” she finishes writing with a sweeping motion—underlining what she’s written. “And we’ll discuss it,”

“Alright,” Kahlan agrees, examining the neat line of numbers scrawled across her forearm.  It’s unsurprisingly a D’Haran area code, just another piece of Cara information that Kahlan adds to collection bank. It still equals very little; Kahlan’s hoping to change that.

“So,” Cara easily slides off of the table, stowing Kahlan’s pen back snugly against the spirals of her notebook. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,”

Kahlan nods.

Cara smirks, flipping open Kahlan’s textbook inexplicably to the exact page Kahlan had left off on.

“Have fun studying,” she teases, leaving Kahlan to ponder just how long Cara had been watching her before she had made her presence known.

Studying turns out to be pretty ineffective for the rest of the day. Kahlan is hopelessly distracted and she just can’t seem to shake the feeling that she might just be walking into a flame here, which is especially odd since she already feels like she’s burning.  

 

 

“Look at you,” Richard shakes his head, hiding his teasing smile behind his coffee cup as he takes a sip. “My little Kahlan is growing up,”

Kahlan glares at her best-friend across the circular, freshly polished mahogany table between them. She feels a bit out of place here in a coffee shop in Westland inhabited mostly by couples and the occasional Westland boy who orders something and heads for the door almost as soon as his order is ready.

She had wondered why Cara had asked her to meet her here of all places, but then she caught a glimpse of the baristas subtly pouring something from a small flask into most of the coffee orders, and then it made more sense than it really should have. She supposes that it’s better than meeting somewhere in D’Hara or the Midlands; at least Westland is mutual territory for both of them. In fact, it is closer to Kahlan’s territory since Westland University for Boys is her brother school and Richard jumped on the chance to accompany her here which apparently also means annoying her by staring at her like she’s astonishingly transformed into a different person.        

“Seriously!” She resists the urge to nudge him under the table, instead choosing to divert her attention to anything that isn’t Richard’s gleeful gaze. It doesn’t work though; his gaze practically tears through her. “Okay, fine!” She bites. “What is it, Richard?”   

“Nothing!” He says, but he’s grinning in a way that clearly means it’s something. Kahlan entertains the thought of just leaving it at that—of not pulling on the bait even further—but she knows Richard, and she knows he won’t stop hassling her until he gets off his chest whatever it is making his quirk upwards in absolute delight.

“Just say it, Richard,”

“It’s just,” He shakes his head, like he’s truly in disbelief. “A year ago, you would have probably tried to start a cat fight with a Mord’Sith if one walked in here,” That’s an exaggeration, a gross one; Kahlan has never been one to incite violence and Richard knows that, but of course he can sit there and mock her so easily; he has it easy at Westland.  Sure, Westland U and D’Hara College have a rivalry that has even more history that Midlands and Mordlin-Sithers, but they only take it seriously during football season and even then, the boys never take school spirit as seriously as the girls do. Even becoming a Seeker was easy for Richard. One of the most prestigious fraternities in the country and he literally didn’t even have to do a thing! They recruited him, and then his initiation task was to eat as many slices of pizza he could in ten minutes! So, of course he doesn’t get it; Kahlan really doesn’t expect him to. “But now look at you, sneaking away to go on a date with the enemy,”

“It’s not a date,” Kahlan replies, frowning when Richard’s lips quirk further into a smile, like he’d anticipated the reply. “And she’s not the enemy,” she says as an afterthought. “She helped me, a lot, okay? When she really didn’t have to,”

Richard leans back in his chair, smiling like he knows something she doesn’t, and Kahlan purses her lips, allowing herself a moment of uncharacteristic annoyance at Richard’s typical antics.

“If by helped, you mean stripped for you, and then asked you out on a date, then sure, she helped you,”

“It’s not a—”

Richard leans forward against the table, resting his jaw on his palm like he’s really interested in what Kahlan has to say.

“Then what is it?” He asks. There’s a hint of challenge in his tone, like it’s a question he knows Kahlan has no answer to, and as much as Kahlan wants to prove him wrong, she really has no answer to it.

“It’s—,” She searches her brain for a word that seems fitting but comes up blank. “I don’t know. It’s two people hanging out. Like you and I,”

“No,” He laughs. “I’m keeping your company. You’ve made it clear that I have to make myself scarce when your date arrives,”

“It’s not a date,” She sighs. It’s so exhausting arguing with him, since her never really gets angry or frustrated with her; in fact, he usually just gets amused at her, which tends to just leave her frustrated.

She glances around the coffee shop, making sure no one is really paying any attention to them. They’re not. Most of the other occupants are either engrossed in each other or made extremely jovial by the subtle addition to their drink orders; still, Kahlan leans forward against the table, so she is inaudible to anyone but her best-friend. “Richard, she’s a girl!”

That only makes Richard even more amused.

“Really? The fact that she goes to Mordlin-Sithers College for girls hadn’t clued me in on that!”

Kahlan groans.

“You know what I mean,” she grumbles.

Richard nods.  

“I do,” He admits, his eyebrows knitting together in a way that Kahlan always associates with an impending Richard moment of somber wisdom. He stares at her thoughtfully for a moment, like he’s actually weighing his words carefully. “But maybe she sees something in you that even you don’t. Something that you don’t want to see, perhaps?” He says softly, leaning in so their conversation is as intimate as it can be in such a social setting. “Maybe there’s a reason we didn’t work out, Kahlan,”

“Richard…” She always feels a need to explain herself when he brings that up, which is especially funny since it’s something she can’t even explain to herself. She loves Richard; she loves him more than she’s ever loved anyone who wasn’t family. That’s why she dated him for three years; that’s why she dated him for two additional months after those three years; that’s why she tried so hard to love him the way he loves her, and that’s why she was beyond heartbroken when she realized she just couldn’t; she just can’t. It’s not even that she’s a hopeless romantic or anything, because she’s not. She considers herself, if anything, a realist at heart. She knows that Richard is practically as perfect as she’s ever going to get. He’s smart, handsome, funny, courageous; the Seeker to her Confessor, the very boy turned man that her whole neighborhood had slated her to one day marry ever since he wondered lost into their town when he was nine and she was eight, and even after being directed back to his home, he had managed to get “lost” every day after that, sometimes picking flowers for her along the way, sometimes herding along with him a stray animal that together they would bathe, and nurture like it was their own. He had loved her since then, like loves her now, with a keen surety that should be enough. And, it is enough. It’s more than enough! Being with Richard isn’t settling, it isn’t resigning herself to convenience; it’s being loved, and adored, and treated with respect; it’s happily-ever-after. The perfect fairy tale ending to a story so uncomplicated that fairy tale characters themselves would be green with jealousy. Yet, Kahlan can’t do it. Well, she can do it. She can be with Richard, and kiss him and let him hold her, and let him love her in that purely Richard way, but, because she does love him, she won’t do it. She loves him too much to selfishly let him settle when she knows there’s an unexplainable void when she’s with him, a hesitance that she can’t will away that just won’t let her give herself to him fully. He deserves more than that.   

Richard smiles, his eyes lighting up in a way so boyish that for a moment Kahlan sees the nine year old boy she once knew, with freshly picked flowers in his hands and smile so wide that the corners of his eyes have to crinkle under the pressure of it. He leans further against the table, holding up a finger to indicate that he’s not quite finished with what he has to say, and even if he was, he would want no apology or explanation from her; he never did.

“Kahlan,” His voice is soothing, but forceful, demanding that she not only listen but give thought to what he has to say. “She’s a Mord’Sith,” Kahlan doesn’t need to be reminded of that; it’s a fact not easily forgotten.  “I can’t even begin to repeat the sort of things you’ve called them in the past; yet she what? Stalks you twice and you agree to go out with her? You obviously respect her to some degree. I’d venture to say you even like her, so I can’t possibly understand why you’re so reluctant to give her a chance,” 

Kahlan sighs, resisting the urge to ease the sudden throbbing in her temple by banging her head against the wooden table. It’s Saturday! She shouldn’t have to think this much on a Saturday.

“You’re too trusting,” she finally says, meeting Richard’s eager gaze.

He shrugs—it’s something he’s been accused of before.

“You said it yourself. She helped you. In my head, that’s no reason to distrust her,” He leans back in his chair, his smile turning taunting again. “Besides,” He grins. “You’ve made your hair extra bouncy, so there’s no use pretending that you’re not trying to impress someone; someone who is obviously not me,”

“Whatever,” Kahlan grumbles, wishing she had gotten the “special’ shot in her coffee. Mind-numbing drunkenness sounds pretty good right about now. “It’s because you rolled down the windows in your car in the middle of the winter, Richard,” She defends herself. “Seriously, you should consider seeing a doctor about thi— Oh,” If there’s a word to describe air being forced out of lungs with such incredible power that she barely even feels it, then that’s how Kahlan feels when she sees her, suddenly breathless and completely unprepared. “Here she comes,” she whispers to Richard, tracking the Mord’Sith’s progress through the coffee shop’s glass windows.

Richard glances over her and through the window at the approaching blonde, taking in first the fitted Mordlin-Sithers’ letterman jacket in which her hands are tucked coolly in the side pockets, and then the leather pants so fitted, he’s sure they could be painted on.

“Well,” He grins.

Kahlan actually does nudge him under the table this time.

Leave,”

“Alright!” He smiles, sliding off of his chair and grabbing his cup of coffee. “I’ll be over there,” He nods towards an unoccupied foosball table in the corner of the coffee shop. “You know, in case you want to introduce me to your date,”  

Kahlan’s almost certain she won’t want to.

 

 

“Do you want another drink?”

Kahlan surveys her almost empty coffee cup, stirring the remnants of the frothy liquid idly. She hasn’t been keeping count or anything and although she’s kept her drinks completely special substance free thus far, she’s pretty sure caffeine jitters will be kicking in soon.

 “No, thank you. I think I’ve had enough coffee to fuel about three all-nighters,” She answers with a smile. The last thing she needs right now is to become a jittery, rambling mess; she already feels like she’s talking way too much and they’ve only been sitting here for around an hour, which suddenly feels like way too long yet not nearly long enough because Kahlan is still not entirely sure what she’s doing here and even less sure what she’s still doing here.

Cara is… Well, Cara is a lot of things, most of which Kahlan does not know, because among the things Cara is not—things that Kahlan has had to conclude rather than learn, mainly from the things that Cara hasn’t said, rather than the things she has— talkative is at the top of the list. In fact, Kahlan’s not even sure if that’s the correct word to use. Cara’s not by any means shy or quiet or even the sulky brooding type; she does talk—conversationally even (when Kahlan prods a bit)—and joke—mostly at the expense of someone else’s dignity, which would usually be off-putting to Kahlan, except Cara’s eyes seem to light up when she’s found something insufferably clever to say—which is often—, and Kahlan just can’t suppress her smile at that even if she tried—so, talkative is definitely really not the right word. Kahlan supposes that Cara’s just not that… expressive. Only that doesn’t seem quite right either, because Cara does express herself. She’s rather expressive about her dislike for Confessors; she makes no effort to hide it, even in Kahlan’s presence, just like she makes no effort to hide her eye roll anytime Kahlan talks about the honour of being a Confessor, or class, or anything school related at all really. So expressive is definitely not the right word. She’s—well, she’s just—

“You’re thinking too hard,”

Kahlan raises an eyebrow, meeting a gaze she feels hasn’t left her all night.

“Hmm?”

“You’re thinking too hard,” Cara repeats herself. She leans back against her chair, letting her lips quirk into an amused smirk. “Stop it,”

“And what’s wrong with deep thought?”

Cara purses her lips, her eyebrows knitting together in contemplation.  Her gaze shifts curiously into something softer, something less consuming but more overwhelming.

“You’ll probably come to a conclusion you won’t like,” she answers softly. There’s something about the way she says it, something about the unbridled concentration in her gaze that makes Kahlan’s skin tingle with suppressed  tremors. Cara sounds genuine, almost fiercely sincere and Kahlan wishes she knew what to make of that. She really wishes she could understand it, that she could pin a name to the quick flit of emotion that flashes in Cara’s eyes and momentarily invades her vocal cords. If it were anybody else in the world, Kahlan would have a name for it already; she would be able to anticipate it and know the intention behind it.  Kahlan is nothing if not good at reading people—she almost majored in psychology because of it—yet Cara could very well have a doctorate in guardedness, because even when she does slip up, like now, she catches herself so quickly, swallowing back the momentary lapse and conjuring up an amused smile before Kahlan can even verbally question it. “Or,” Cara shrugs, smiling in a way that Kahlan’s almost sure has disarmed hundreds of girls before her. “You know, you’ll probably look at least 40 by next week,”

Kahlan allows herself a smile at that.  

Tragic,” she replies lightheartedly.

“Yeah,” Cara agrees. She reaches between them and smoothes her fingertips across Kahlan’s forehead, gently smoothing away the hints of no doubt impending worry lines. “Although,” she shrugs, taking hold of a lock of unruly hair and tucking it behind Kahlan’s ear. “You’ll probably still be really hot at 40,’  

 Kahlan blushes so hard it’s a wonder how she still has enough blood to accommodate the unusually rapid thumping of her heart.

 

 

“I think we’re attracting some attention,”

Kahlan glances around the emptying coffee shop. There are still quite a few people around, definitely mostly couples now, but no one seems particularly interested in them, at least not any more interested than they have been for the past three hours they’ve been sitting here talking.

“Hmm?” Kahlan asks, flushing when Cara leans closer over the table, closer to her.  

“There’s a guy by the foosball table,” Cara explains quietly.

Of course.

Kahlan sighs, glancing up to find Richard, without a doubt, staring at them with an awareness that would certainly have been curious had she not known it was him. She had almost forgotten he was still here.

“Richard,” She admits.

Cara raises an eyebrow.

“You know him?”

“He’s a friend.”

Cara looks skeptical.

“My best friend,” Kahlan clarifies. That seems to work, because about a hundred levels of understanding cross Cara’s features, and suddenly Kahlan feels transparent.   

“You brought him here,” Cara says. It’s not a question; it’s a statement of fact. It’s Cara giving words to her easy-flowing perceptions of all-things-Kahlan.

“No,” Kahlan lies, except not really, because semantically, he brought her here since he drove, still she knows what Cara is getting at and she’s a bit peeved about how quickly Cara is able to jump to conclusion about her. Cara raises an eyebrow, eyes narrowing suspiciously.  “Yes,” Kahlan confesses with a sigh.   

“Well,” Cara leans back into her chair, smirking like she’s won some nameless conflict. “You may as well introduce us. I can tell he’s dying to give me the talk,”

“The talk?” Kahlan parrots confusedly, shooting Richard a quick glare for his obvious lack of subtlety.

“Yes. You know, the one that accompanies the eye he’s been giving me for half an hour,”

Kahlan glances at Richard again and then back at Cara.

“The eye?” she asks.

“Yes,” Cara nods, clearly amused by Kahlan’s bewilderment. “You know the ‘if-you-hurt-her, I-will-kill-you’ one.  He probably gives it to all the people you date,”

Kahlan’s eyes widen in shock, because, as it turns out, it really is a date after all, and well, no, Richard doesn’t give the “eye” or the accompanying “talk” to anyone, because Kahlan hasn’t date anyone who wasn’t Richard.

Until now, apparently.

 

 

“He’s something, your best friend,”

Cara shuts her car off, killing the smooth rebellious purr of the sports car’s engine, as well as the soft melodic drone of some indie acoustic song that was humming through the car’s speakers. In the silence, Kahlan’s well aware of the wisps of night wind swishing around outside and of the nervous hitches in her otherwise steady breathing.

“He’ll grow on you,” she replies, trying to ignore the flicker of the streetlight outside that illuminates the rather large stone statue at the entrance of her college campus. It was her idea for Cara to drop her off at the apartments across the street from her university grounds just in case there are actually people about, on a Saturday night at a university that despite its academic reputation also has quite a reputation as a party school.

Cara actually looks quite terrified for a moment, and Kahlan can’t help but giggle.

“I’m not sure I want him to,” Cara says, although with a smile, after all, she did get twenty bucks out of him after he lost five consecutive games of foosball. “You two aren’t a package deal, are you?”

“Not purposely,” Kahlan admits in good humour, though there are implications behind Cara’s words, and Kahlan can’t bite back the need to question them. “Why?” she swallows against her nerves, keeping her words as light and carefree as she can manage. “Were you thinking of keeping me?”

Even in the moderate darkness, Kahlan can feel the way Cara’s gaze consumes her, like all of her is being drawn in.

“Yeah,” Cara shrugs, feigning a nonchalance that not even she can pull off, not when she’s looking at Kahlan like she could very well set her alight with just her eyes.“Maybe,”

Kahlan smiles at the admission and, for the first time in what feels like forever she does something she doesn’t even stop to think about; she sweeps forward and presses her lips to Cara’s before her brain can even begin compiling the list of one hundred and one reasons why this is a bad idea.

It doesn’t feel like a bad idea. In fact, kissing Cara feels like about a million good ideas wrapped into one action that probably should make Kahlan feel guilty, although in reality all she does feels is the soft pressure of equally as soft lips, and fingertips gently lulling the maddening thrumming of the pulse in her neck, and heat, a deep warmth that burns a thousand times hotter than the flame of Cara’s gaze.

She feels everything.

She feels about a hundred everythings!

She feels the tickle in her fingertips when she brushes her fingers through golden strands of hair; she feels the rush of Cara’s blood beneath skin, flowing through the rises of veins and arteries and capillaries that she easily runs her fingers across; she feels Cara’s breath enter her, fill her, and scar her lungs with irrevocable proof that Cara’s been there.  She feels everything that she hadn’t felt with Richard, everything that she still can’t give name to, but she feels it here and now in Cara’s oddly tender touch.   

Most of all, she feels a bit fearful, fearful of what she just initiated, fearful of all the looming consequences of what she just initiated, and that’s what makes her pull away from Cara’s lips.

 “I should go,” she says, even though her voice comes out shaky, and a lot more breathy than she would have liked.

Cara nods.

“Ok,”  

She sounds breathless, just as breathless as Kahlan feels, and Kahlan almost allows herself an indulgent moment of pride because she did that but, oh God, she really did that; she just kissed a Mord’Sith in her car, less than a block away from her school!

Cara unlocks the car doors, a sound, that in this weighty silence, usually would have stirred Kahlan out of her inner monologue, except, Kahlan’s too shocked to even begin lecturing herself.

The cool plastic of the door latch only serves to remind Kahlan how warm the last thing she touched was—how warm Cara is.

“Hey, Kahlan?”

Kahlan turns towards the Mord’Sith, the gentle breeze from the cracked open car door mingling with the warmth in the car.  

“Text me when you get back to your room?” And that, quite possibly for the first time in the short while Kahlan has known Cara, is a question and it’s quite obviously not the question it’s phrased as.

Cara is asking if she’ll see her again, —Kahlan doesn’t know— she’s asking if she’s done something wrong—she hasn’t—she asking if Kahlan will let herself be kept; she asking Kahlan to answer all of that with one text message, one most probably one worded text message.  

Kahlan entertains the idea of not doing it, of eluding all impending consequences, of pretending like she hadn’t just felt her world crash on top of itself.

She smiles.

“Alright,” Kahlan’s terrible at lying, and her answer is obviously no lie. She will text Cara, probably the very moment she steps into her dorm room.

18 years.

Well, 18 years, 11 months and she’ll come up with a proper calculation when it doesn’t quite feel her chest is going to explode under the weight of her heartbeat.

Ok, so maybe that’s a gross exaggeration. Still, she’s not whimsical or anything but she’s been waiting to feel this fairy-tale like tingle, this flutter in her chest, for years now. And here it is—Kahlan feels her heart pump faster at just the memory of the way Cara’s lips felt against hers—here it finally is, with a girl, and not just any girl but with a Mord’Sith, with the practical poster girl for Mordlin-Sithers… Kahlan Amnell may very well be the unluckiest girl alive.

Except, for once, she might not even care.

To Be Continued… I can officially update quicker now, since college is finally wearing down! Yay! Sorry this update took like forever lol

Coming up in the next chapter:  Kahlan gets further into her Confessorhood (?) and Cara is, well, Cara.

 

Comments

Fantastic paragraph: "She always feels a need to explain herself when he brings that up, which is especially funny since it’s something she can’t even explain to herself. [...] He deserves more than that."

Awesome: "You’ve made your hair extra bouncy, so there’s no use pretending that you’re not trying to impress someone"

I loved this.
OMG!!! I thought this was a one shot!! You don't know how happy I was to read this update. This story is the best thing in LotS land :D

I can't wait for the update and I just love AU so you're fulfilling a fic wish of mine :D

Thank you! Excited for the next chapter
omg!! i laughed out loud a couple times...not even gonna lie. I love Cara in this and Kahlan's extra bouncy hair.. hahaha

update again soon..pwease!!

:)
i dont know where to start.
srsly!
no words [english is not my first language and sometimes when the fanfiction is THAT awesome, i dont know what to say!]
i REALLY loved this AU
i hope u update soon *-*




Oh. I love this really hard.

Oh thank you for saying you're going to continue it! ::relief::

xD SQUEE!!!!

I agree with whoever else said it once (or more than 1 someone?)--I am sincerely feeling the love for Cara/Kahlan H.S./college AU fic. I had my doubts, but...wow. It is FUN stuff. It just seems to fit so well; works so well.

happeehappeehappeehappeehappeehappeehappee......


Oh oh! And: Loved this line (amongst MANY I loved, but- here's one, anyway):

“You’d be surprised what people will tell and then swear not to re-tell once you’ve scared them shitless,” she says casually.


Aaaaaahhhh! hahahah... Awesome; and SO Cara!

Loved it.

(Anonymous)

Three cheers for extra bouncy hair! A sure sign of trying to impress someone special!
I liked your sneaky, subtle "wisp of night wind" nod to nightwisps! Wink!

You have started a very charming story!

Austin
Awesome! Love how you incorporated the story/show into your AU!

Waiting for more! :)
Ah, that kiss :D Fills me with so much joy to read thing like that :D
They kissed. It's so beautiful.
So much fun to read... :)
Waiting for more...
"Were you thinking of keeping me?

Yeah. Maybe."

Aagh! Loved this! Happy to hear there will be mmoooore! Yay!
Ohh awesome chapter is awesome! I love this plot.
I don't know how I missed this update when you posted it. Great update. They are too cute. Can't wait for the rest.
This is excellent. I love the way you handle Kahlan and Richard (they make awesome BFFs) and the whole thing about how she's finding something with Cara that was missing before. The kiss made me swoon! :D
This chapter is so awesome, I had to reread it and I still love it (especially the kiss :D and well.. I don't mean to nag you but I really would like to read more, you are too talented not to continue :)
*flails* I can't believe I didn't comment before. THIS ROCKS. Moar please? I love AUs and this one is particularly delicious.
miss this...

*pokes*

Really, really want continuation, more of this, plz? *beggy beggy*

:)

come back!
yes, come back? lol really enjoyed this
Very nice reading i hope you will continue it, thanks for the great fic