#I am B A D at picking gifs for these 🤪🤪🤪

[catherine-bisset]

Kissing Booth

ft: @fleetsummers | In which two philosophers discuss the arts. A hug goes wrong.

Cat | She slunk up near the end of the day. Fleet was the only familiar person, and so it was Fleet Cat selected to inquire with. "Is this event commonplace?"

Fleet | "Not at all. The town's been through so much lately, and March is always such a dreary month, we just thought it would be something to lift our spirits, y'know?" Fleet smiled at her, the air of this interaction much different than the pondside one. "Honestly, I think kissing booths fell out of fashion decades ago. But we all know each other here."

Cat | Absorbing the information, she took a hesitant step closer. "Okay."

Fingertips grazed the edges of the little window. "This kindness... the familiarity helps?"

Fleet | "For most people, I think so. I was on a movie once called Sparrow's Flight and there was a kissing booth scene and even though the extras who I kissed were very nice, it still felt pretty weird by the end of a day of shooting." Fleet crinkled his nose at the memory. "So much jaw strain!"

Cat | Idle chatter froze Cat. His familiarity shifted, a younger version superimposed. "You were the love interest." How had she not noticed?

Fleet | The comment, more than the way it was delivered, made Fleet perk up immediately, his vanity stoked: "You know it? You've seen it? I was starting to think my filmography hadn't entered the pop culture vernacular like I thought it had!"

Cat | She nodded, suppressing reaction. It had paid well, that movie. Kept her afloat a good while. It wasn't Fleet's fault society required such sacrifice.

Her hands flexed open and shut against her thighs. "I've seen it. Did you feel it was accurate to the true story?"

Fleet | It was a more serious question than he expected, but Fleet dropped -- immediately, comfortably -- into interview mode, thinking on it. "I don't think any sort of fictionalization can be accurate to that degree," he said. "After all, it's meant to be watchable and to get people's interest. I did make sure to read what I could about the actual story, to try and be respectful and all, but the director wouldn't let us watch interviews and things like that. We had to make our own performances."

Cat | Heat was creeping up Cat's skin. He didn't know. Not his fault. "The real story didn't have a kissing booth," was all she managed, and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt. Safer there.

"I was going to ask for a hug." It was blurted, stilted and without adu. "I thought you might want one, for you."

Fleet | Fleet's forehead creased slightly at that comment, and he sat up straighter. "You're familiar with the Sparrow story?" he asked. "You seem sort of young for it. Although I shouldn't say that, for all I know you're just older and prettier than I am." He was on the verge of a light laugh to accompany the comment, but Cat suggesting a hug knocked it flat. "I would love one," Fleet said instead, and came around to the front, slipping his arms around Cat's waist and leaning the side of his head against hers.

Cat | Compliments on her appearance made Cat's spine itch, so she pretended he simply hadn't spoken them. Instead, she held still until he'd settled himself against her.

Like anyone unfamiliar with casual affection, the effort was awkward. Her arms settled around Fleet's body, careful of his wounds. Butterfly touch. Her voice was low, but never whispered. "You deserved better."

Fleet | Cat's unease in a hug seemed par the course, Fleet had gleaned that much out by the pond, but he startled when she said what she said. Not out of the hug, entirely, but he did go quite still instead of his habitual constant tiny shifts in movement to meld against the other person. "What? Why would you say that? What do you mean?"

Cat | She didn't cling or grasp, entirely used to people pulling away. "Than your father," she explained simply, glancing at his eyes for the first time in minutes. "Than your uncle. Than what happened."

It seemed an obvious thing. Had he forgotten their conversation? Or had Cat stumbled into a social trap she was not aware existed?

Fleet | She had the most extraordinary eyes; dark and searching, but giving away nothing, like staring into the night sky so long it stared back. "I wonder, sometimes," Fleet said. "What exactly I deserved."

Cat | She frowned. "A real chance - the same as every infant." Except Cat, who was the shape her family made her. The great void, wretched and rotten.

Fleet | Fleet wasn't certain he wanted to commit to that, not just yet. He wasn't prone to morbidity, but here was a chance for it, with somebody who seemed so inclined, and so he said, "You don't believe in fate, then? Predestination? That maybe we're -- mostly -- living the lives that we were always meant to have, with just the slightest little bit of chance to customize things?"

Cat | His answer unexpected, Cat had no answer prepared. "Fate implies some greater intelligence, yes? A will powerful enough to shape us all." No, Cat thought. She didn't care for that at all.

"That would mean what we suffer is by design. We struggle in near futility against what cannot be escaped." It choked her, to think that killing one god was not enough.

Fleet | "So the alternative, then." Fleet subsided into glumness. "That everything happens because of free will and people exercising their free will irresponsibly, and cruelly, and without foresight. I don't know if that's much more comforting than being set on a cosmic track of destiny in the design of some higher power."

Cat | "I have met many monsters, Fleet. All were human." Cat was far from the idea comforter, if that was what Fleet sought. "Someone fated to be monstrous is pitiable - Judas never had a chance. But choice? Choice means a chance to change. To grasp your destiny and shape it."

Fleet | "Judas," Fleet repeated. He wouldn't have figured Cat for the religious sort, so that was a new thing to factor in. "He had some killer songs, though." That was a silly thing to say, and Fleet shook his head, saying, "--sorry. I resort to musical theatre references in times of stress. In the end it doesn't matter much, does it? Whether people were fated to hurt you or if they made that choice all on their own."

Cat | "I haven't seen any." The statement was dry, unapologetic in its explanation. "I didn't intend to provoke stress." This, at least, held the scent of regret.

"Wounds hurt no less if inflicted of free will or the blueprint of a greater force. Pity Judas, but it does not negate his betrayal."

Fleet | "Do you like music? If you do, I can introduce you to some. Musicals, I mean." Another reflexive response, offering music when he was trying and failing to figure out something more momentous. But it wasn't such a bad thing, Fleet didn't think, and Cat might end up discovering something she enjoyed. "Cat," he said, "there's no thirty pieces of silver, but. Would you like a kiss?"

Cat | She didn't remember how she felt about music. "Okay," was all she gave Fleet in response to the answer, rather than expose her lack of opinion.

Her eyes widened, and Cat froze again. "I don't do that." This was not Isaac - with his unshakable guarantee of chastity. Fleet contained danger she'd been foolish to forget. "I understand," she whispered, hands mindfully still, "but please don't."

Fleet | "It's fine. You're the visitor, Cat. It's about whatever you'd like." Fleet hugged her, the embrace careful and measured, his hands nowhere that she couldn't move out of easily. "I think you'd like them," he said. "Musicals. Big questions about life but set to music, with dancing, and costumes sometimes."

Cat | Breathe caught in her throat, Cat was a statue for Fleet's safety. She could understand on the surface that he wasn't truly threatening, but everything else was Fight instinct. Control was held one moment at a time, little half-moons in her palm digging deeper. "Okay," she exhaled the word, wishing she could explain to him. Knowing she should.

Instead, Cat took a step back out of his polite and respectful embrace. "Tell me more another day." Her voice was thick, one of the weaknesses she still struggled with. "You did a good job in the movie," the compliment was offered in her stilted way, an attempt to give him something positive to remember.

Fleet | "Thank you," Fleet said with reflexive politeness, though it was still puzzling, the way Cat talked about Sparrow's Flight. "It was such a sad story. Everyone kept saying how brave she was but ... I don't know. Being brave doesn't make anything feel less ruined. At least not in my experience."

Cat | Her laugh barked out, a cracked sound. "They never call the lucky ones brave, do they?"

Another step back and Cat shrugged a narrow shoulder under the sweatshirt. "Free will or destiny, Fleet. Ruined is still ruined."