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GG: but you must have seen something interesting hurtling through space!
GG: a black hole?
GG: a newly forming star?
GG: not even a meteor shower?
TT: We fortunately have running water so I not only see, but experience, a meteor shower daily. It is not as thrilling as scientists have predicted.
GG: haha... you know what i mean. you're really telling me you've not seen any cool space stuff at all??
TT: Sorry to disappoint. I'm sure that the view is incredible, but unfortunately the roaring flames surrounding our mode of transportation prevent our sightseeing.
TT: It's a shame as it means I can't beat Dave at yellow car, no returns.
TT: Besides, don't you have enough 'space stuff' going on of your own? You are able to literally hold planets in your hands.
GG: i'm learning to juggle!
GG: :p
GG: but you get to see proper space stuff!
GG: you've not even experienced any...
GG: alien activity?
GG: :p
TT: Now I know you can come up with better than that.
GG: i'll take that as a no...
Your name is Rose Lalonde and you once took pride in your poker face. It is one trained by near perfect report cards, a lack of regard for bedtimes, claiming that you don't want a birthday party, and sneaking in to age inappropriate movies and sneaking out age inappropriate books. You now hold a monopoly in Can Town, as well as all the train station and utility spaces. You are its silent guardian. You are its watchful protector. The need to build hotels on all of its properties is great. More importantly, you are all too aware of Karkat's need to keep betting even when, and especially, when he has nothing else to lose.
If you play your cards right, and you usually do, he'll be bleach blond by the end of the evening.
Terezi lays the seven of spades down on the table and Dave glances your way, expectant. You grimace at the seven putrid gnomes dancing on the card. Leave it up to your brother to be in charge of supplying the 'entertainment'.
The motley crew sitting around the table is quiet except for Terezi leaning her chair back and forth from the table. You shake your head an infinitesimal amount. Dave sneers. Karkat's mouth twitches and he spreads his elbows across the table, relieved. You all stare at the singed card on the table. It's Kanaya who breaks the silence, turning her hand over deliberately, pinning each card down on the table with a red painted fingernail for a second longer than necessary before reaching for the next.
"Two pair," she declares, raising an eyebrow across the table at you. Except, of course, Kanaya is incapable of raising a singular eyebrow and looks startled rather than the suave you imagine she was aiming for.
You shake your head down at your own cards, sneaking a glance back up at her when Terezi announces her own, marginally more impressive, hand.
Dave is too busy looking down at you over his glasses, wiggling his eyebrows, to announce his cards in a timely manner.
You look at him blankly and tilt your head to one side. "Sorry Dave?"
Dave retreats into his cape before slowly lifting his right hand to his mouth, two fingers extended, tongue flitting in and out of the gap. You shake your head, your eyebrows knitting together.
"I don't understand what you're insinuating. Would you care to explain it to me?"
Dave sighs, giving up, and you bring out the mask that has so often graced your features; you like to call it the 'no-mother-of-course-I-have-never-given-our-home-address-to-strangers-on-the-internet-Jade-used-to-go-to-my-school-but-moved-away' face.
"Dave you fucking lactose beast, we'd quite like to carry on with our game. But by all means, keep us waiting with your ridiculous sibling baiting antics; apparently we have time oozing out of all of our orifices," Karkat says, slamming his own cards on the table. He gathers them back up with a scowl, clutching them back to his chest.
Terezi's chair lands on all four legs with a thump. You watch her throw her hands and the remaining cards up into the air.
"The jury is in and they say there's no point drawing the torment out any longer. Karkat, we all know you've lost. Hand over your stupidly soft head of hair." Terezi grins and starts to move towards the door. "Officer Dazzlelight has waited a long time for justice, it's cruel to deny him any longer."
Where Karkat is now rooted in his chair, Dave is the next out of his. The Mayor is content with constructing houses out of the fallen cards, including those laid out for the conclusion of your game. It's fortunate, because you didn't have the winning hand and had allowed yourself to get in far too deep. Now everyone can carry on convinced that you and Terezi have an elaborate system for duping everyone else out of their limited possessions on this rock.
Dave and Terezi force Karkat out of the chair. You watch across the table, amused, as Karkat shouts for his moirail to come to his assistance, damnit, what else is he paying her for?
Kanaya attempts to raise an eyebrow again. She fails. "I have yet to receive any financial reward for being your moirail, Karkat."
"Paying with my precious time and affection!"
Kanaya hums, her eyebrows knitting together before she pushes up on the table, her nails scratching the surface and your eyes follow her across the room as she walks over to where Terezi and Dave have each grabbed a leg of Karkat's chair as he clutches desperately to its sides.
"Watch out Terezi, the rainbow drinker's coming for you and I don't think she's tasted blood in- hey, what in the name of the miserable piss-covered world we created do you think you're doing, Maryam?" Karkat kicks out, managing to hit Dave square in the face. You grin.
As the boys tussle, Kanaya crosses her arms and shares a glance with Terezi. You desperately want to join them, to point out the most effective way to drag Karkat down into the nearest bathroom, but you remain stubbornly in your seat. It's easier for Dave, to just barge in and refuse to leave until he's accepted, not caring about what everyone else might think, just issuing blind confidence and blind ignorance. You want to help as Terezi pulls Dave off of Karkat and you can feel yourself leaning forwards, but not far enough. You want to help Kanaya as she places her hand on the back of Karkat's neck and he stills, slumping in his seat, frown on his face.
You want to help as Kanaya takes both of Karkat's arms, Dave and Terezi each taking a leg, and they start to carry him out of the recreation room, all laughing as Karkat scowls up at them.
"Are you coming Rose?" Your poker face slips as Kanaya looks at you, genuinely confused over the fact that you are still seated.
Needless to say an invitation was all you required. As Kanaya's painted nails slide over your palm as she passes over one of Karkat's despondant arms, it's all you can to do to resist biting your lip. Securing your hold, she nods to you. You nod back.
The first time the two of you bumped into each other was an accident. The second was your fault. You certainly didn't initiate the turn through the door that caused your forearms to essentially reach second base with each other, but you convince yourself Kanaya didn't mean it. You were fully aware of her eyes following you out of the bathroom after you all ran what could or could not constitute as dye (Dave isn't entirely sure he read the code correctly) through Karkat's hair, and when you reach your own room in the caverns of the meteor you check yourself over for ripped seams or kick me signs.
There's nothing there, and you convince yourself that you imagined it.
But you know you didn't.
(You think that makes it even worse.)
***
On Wednesday, at least, you think it's Wednesday, Dave shines a torch in your face brighter than the yellow streaks that now runs through Karkat's hair.
"This better be good," you say, closing Gulliver's Travels. "I'm sure all of that 18th century satire is absolutely hilarious and not at all entrenched in highly specific historical knowledge. It would be a shame to miss out on the talking giant horses for a slice of burnt toast."
"Yeah, we know you're ten times smarter than the rest of us," Dave lounges against the doorframe, waiting for you. "Now give yourself a break and indulge the rest of us in some dumb mindless shenanigans. Convince us you're not actually some strange baby adult hybrid."
You steal the torch from him, giving Dave a well deserved dig in the ribs. "How mindless are these shenanigans?"
"Oh, so mindless." Dave makes a grab for the torch but you're faster, and the two of you head towards the kitchen, jostling most of the way. "Like, you could be staring off into space and then, whoops, the shenanigans have just fallen on the floor in front of you, shattered into more pieces than Mariah Carey's heart last Christmas, and just so, so, mindless."
The kitchen is empty except for Terezi who stands by the sink, surrounded by stacks of dirty plates. You all agree that there is no point in doing the washing up when you can alchemize new utensils. She's counting, already in the thirties, and Dave ushers you out into one of the many corridors.
"What are you waiting for Lalonde?" Dave asks as he rushes towards Can Town. "Get hiding."
Terezi has bypassed forty and your stomach falls. A set of green curtains flashes in your mind and you take off in their direction, unsure of where you're going, but trusting your instincts. You lose track of doors as you run now, bypassing the colourful (in both design and language) murals on the walls that stand in for bearings. You turn corners and reach the top of the stone steps out of breath, but you don't have any time to lose. Terezi has certainly either reached the end of her count or grown bored by now, and there's something about the dark corners, the isolated nature, and the hunted feeling of hide and seek that makes you gloriously wary. The threat of Gamzee sends you running down this final corridor, your feet slapping loudly against the concrete, and you curse the fact your god tier pyjamas are the most obnoxious shade of orange.
The light flickers on automatically as you push open the last door, leading to an empty stockroom. Boxes are piled precariously, labels in a language you are still grappling with the basics of, accompanied by the heavy smell of must. You spot the green curtains hanging in front of the room's middle window, although you know exactly what view to anticipate. Honestly, you would prefer to hole up in the library or your room, but Terezi is most certainly on the prowl now and the knot is still tight in your stomach. It's a game, but you're purpose is just to wait to be caught.
You're tempted to disregard the vision and duck under a table, at least somewhere with a good view of the door and where you won't be trapped against the back wall, but you feel compelled.
The curtain is soft beneath your hand, velvet, and the dust is more disturbed here. You stand, distracted, turning the material over in-between your fingers and revelling in the sensation of actually finding something your visions led you towards. The light turns off with a short buzz, startling you, and you crawl underneath the curtain, the pane of the window cold against your hands.
You jump back at the dark shape of someone else already in your hiding spot.
You stand, and instead of the stars couched among the vast darkness of space under your fingertips, you're greeted to the familiar sight of the flames raging around you. Orange light highlights Kanaya, a hands width away from your own, pressed against the glass.
You gasp, the breath whistling as you do so, and you're grateful for the darkness because you are so very embarrassed. You doubt you Saw this spot because it was the most advantageous place to hide. It's highly irritating when your own mind refuses to co-operate with your consistent conscious repressing of certain feelings. Freud would have a field day. Except he wouldn't, because his ideas of female sexuality were limited at best.
"Sorry," you breathe, the running down the last corridor having taken it out of you a little. You don't bothering to brush the hair out of your eyes because of course your instinct took you straight to where Kanaya would be. At least you must provide the Horrorterrors with a good laugh. "I'm well versed in the ancient law of finders keepers, so I'll bow out gracefully." You reach behind you for the curtain, offering Kanaya a sheepish smile.
"Wait," Kanaya says, hushed, and you stop, the curtain now heavy against your back, your hand splayed out near her head twitching.
It would be so easy to slip and brush your fingertips against her cheek. Kanaya is insistent upon meeting your eye so you duck your head, but you can't bring yourself to lower your hand. She ducks down in attempt to catch your gaze again, but given your new fascination with the floor, you miss it.
"There is plenty of room, and Terezi will definitely be on the hunt." Kanaya reproaches, voice still lowered just in case they're discovered any time soon. "I am glad Dave suggested this game, it gives us a sense of our role-playing adventures again. Though I suppose that is good for Terezi but bad for the rest of us."
You look up in surprise, but you fix yourself to a spot just to the side of Kanaya's head. You have lots of practice at being obstinate; good luck, pesky teenage hormones. "I didn't know that you had FLARPING experience."
"Limited. I only ventured out a few times; mostly I patched up her's and Vriska's outfits."
"More than the general wear and tear, I'm guessing."
"Well, the blades were hardly out of place on Alternia. But the eelshark teeth were certainly a surprise."
Dropping your arm back down to your side you slide in next to Kanaya, the damp smell of the curtain more than enough to detract from any notions that may or may not occur to you.
"It's lucky for the others you decided to keep your talents to yourself. I imagine you and your chainsaw would have an unfair advantage in terms of skill." Is that a compliment? Kanaya smiles and you suppose it must be. You can practically hear the conversation you would have with your mother if you ever deigned to discuss crushes with her. No, no harm will come to us, if my three sessions of Tae Kwon Do are insufficient, then Kanaya is rather adept at handling garden weaponry.
Of course, you never had the chance to discuss any crushes with your mother. You think you might have enjoyed the indulgence of that teenage cliché. You can't stop your face from falling as it hits you, as it does daily, that you won't have the opportunity of completing any of those farcical rituals with her. It's constantly there, that void, lingering on the edge of your mind, seeping its way through slowly, and some days you want to throw open the door and extend your full invitation. It's the empty, silent despair you fear more than the anger, but your hands tremble regardless of the sensation.
You watch them and you make no move to stop it. You stay, aware that you have the options to either try and stop your hand from shaking, to pull yourself together, or you can just leave it. The indecision is what gets to you, the fact that you consider inaction before you inevitably decide enough is enough. Except as you look at your hand you also see Kanaya reach over and entwine her fingers within yours. Hers is pale, and never as cold as you expect.
(You suppose you harbour enough coldness for the both of you and an entire squadron of elves at the North Pole.)
She squeezes your hand gently, and you squeeze back. Neither of you let go.
"So," you say after a moment, acting as though you are perfectly fine. "If it wasn't combined pubescent jealousy that discouraged you from playing, what did?"
Kanaya snorts and you look at her, struck by the smile on her face as she shrugs. "Do you not remember how competitive Terezi gets? Imagine that doubled. The Scourge Sisters may have dominated in our group, but Alternia is a large place and their age worked against them. It worked for them, too, on many occasions."
"And I thought beating Jade at Mario Kart was bad."
Kanaya carries on, quickly, a tint of shame colouring her voice that you recognise all too well. "It was too... unpleasant, worrying about everyone out there. Vriska said no-one would want an auspitice involved with so many people, and I had no intentions of filling quadrants, but-" You're not quite tall enough for your shoulder to meet her own as you nudge her and instead lean against her upper arm.
"There's nothing wrong with wanting to help people, Kanaya. In fact, I think it rather admirable."
"Help is a generous term. Meddle is likely more accurate." Kanaya is very interested in the curtain now, her face closed off and cold. You know that look. You would want everyone to back off and leave you to wallow in misery and anger.
Unfortunately for Kanaya, you are very much like that one bottle of wine that lived, and you assume continues to do so, in your mother's basement. Bitter, encased in a fancy package, and left to ferment and improve with age.
"Are you disagreeing with me Kanaya?"
Her eyes dart straight towards yours and you flinch. The pupils have the slightest trace of jade, and sometimes you think she can see straight through you. More than that, you've caught her looking at you like there's something more. As though she believes in you.
"No, I was merely suggesting that there may have been a cultural misunderstanding."
You roll your eyes. So does Kanaya. You stick out your tongue and she laughs. You can practically see yourself grinning like an idiot, one of those characters from John's movies, the woman who refused to believe in love until she was proven otherwise and suddenly no longer cares about being hurt or in danger even if they live on a meteor hurtling itself through unchartered space in constant pursuit.
"Cultural misunderstanding my- what does Karkat call it? Oh, yeah, ass."
"Actually, Karkat also refers to it as-"
You don't give her time to finish her sentence as you let go of her hand, reaching instead for under her arms. You begin your relentless assault, tickling her and loosening the reigns of self restraint in a way you've only ever done with Jade, Dave, or John. Surprise is sketched across Kanaya's face and you consider stopping, apologising, cooling back down a few dozen degrees, and you hesitate. You can only assume the unfortunate look of panic that passes over you when Kanaya, thank Dave, begins to laugh.
Clearly inserting yourself and your friends into the place of deities is a mistake, because now all you can imagine is your brother performing a comedic sketch of clichés in attempt to set up your love life.
Except Kanaya's laugh is glorious, actually, and works perfectly in banishing Dave from your mind. She reaches out for one of your hands but you avoid capture, have Kanaya squirming so that she is crouched lower than you are, and you know if you carry on you'll both be on the floor. You really should stop, but she's laughing, and you're laughing; you're on a rock hurtling through space with death behind you, entombed in certain rooms and woven into your pyjamas in your present, and most likely awaiting your arrival. The fact that you made it out of bed this morning, something that doesn't always happen, let alone having a good time is damn miraculous. You need this. You both do.
A sharp horn grazes the back of your hand and you flinch. Both of you freeze and Kanaya straightens herself up immediately, deliberately not looking at you, arms wrapped around her stomach. You shake it off.
"I'm fine. No blood. See?" You hold your hand up for her inspection, but Kanaya turns away.
You roll your eyes. Now you understand how Dave must have felt when you insisted on going alone to the Green Sun. There's no fun for either side in martyrdom. Placing your other hand under her chin, you turn her back to face you, not mentioning the glow that has begun to form across her cheek bones, but feeling a strange sense of pride in its appearance.
"You do me a disservice by thinking that could harm me."
"Yes," Kanaya says softly after a moment, though still preoccupied with the bottom of your ear. "I saw Dave running around with the less useful half of a sword."
"I can handle Dave. It was Jade and her experimental 'presents' that nearly did me in. Maybe in one timeline they succeeded."
"Do not say that." Kanaya looks at you then, and you drop your hand from beneath her chin. She catches it and holds it in both of her own. This time you're the one to drop her gaze and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with your free hand.
"How do we even know this is the alpha timeline?" You're flippant as you give voice to it, but you crack in the middle. The stitches have been dropped all over your session.
"Rose."
Your eyes dart up, meeting hers with a defiant glare. Kanaya shakes her head and lets go of your hand, moving to tuck another stray strand of hair behind your ear, skin brushing against yours. Her hand cups itself around your ear. Everything seems muffled and your shoulders fall, but your eyes do not. Quite the opposite; you're almost on tip toe, pressing your forehead against hers, her nose squashed against yours.
Kanaya's hand remains behind your ear, eye contact lost in favour of physical contact. You can practically feel the words pass from her to you. "Then what would you do? If this were not the alpha timeline."
You shrug. Knowing Kanaya does not look impressed, you shut your eyes, one hand settling on a shoulder, the other at the base of a pointed horn. You've always been curious. It's warm. Kanaya won't pressure you for an answer, you know that. Fear motivates you instead. Fear that she'll get bored waiting for you to talk about something you desperately want to, but can't seem to find the words or the courage.
"No responsibilities, no roundabout consequences, some sense of stability... it would be nice."
"You are avoiding answering me directly," Kanaya mutters, and you hum, stroking the hair at the base of her horn.
"Consider it more of an opening statement."
Something rattles, but this is the most physical affection you've experienced in nearly two years so you are staying firmly where you are. In the dream bubbles Jade convinces you to cuddle, but it's never enough; ultimately it's an empty gesture, a mere echo of your friend hurtling through a different dimension, but hopefully in the same direction. It hurts more than it helps, but this...
"Well," you start, running your thumb across the top of Kanaya's horn, your other hand steady against her shoulder and not letting go until you have to. "I guess I'd do more of what I wanted."
You could do it. You could kiss her. You've screwed your eyes shut to avoid looking at her lips. You could kiss her and you're almost certain you wouldn't be rejected. That's not what you're scared about. There's a reason your vision led you so conveniently to Kanaya's hiding spot and you are about to lean up that last little bit as you feel her lean down, but unfortunately this is the alpha timeline. You have responsibilities and consequences, the biggest concern of which now being Terezi and Dave goggling at you from between the gap in the curtain. You know that they are there before you open your eyes to shoot them both the deadliest glare you can muster.
"Oh ho Kanaya, you wait until I tell Karkat that you reached troll second base!" The delight rolls off Terezi in waves, but Dave at least is unable to look at you directly.
"Yo, you can just call it second base, TZ. Unless you're telling me you all actually hammer 'troll' in front of every other word making your language some sort of Apple product."
You twitch your nose at Dave and you know he can see you. You don't deign to say anything, know that you only need to hold out and he'll back off. Unfortunately for Kanaya, the surprise has set her off like a newly popped glow-stick.
"Uh, c'mon Terezi, we still need to find Karkat before he gets stuck in the vents again. Shouldn't be too hard now his hair acts as a hi-vis jacket."
You hold the curtain open for them as they leave, Terezi stage whispering for Kanaya to tell her everything later and Dave issuing you with the trusty thumbs up. It's not until you see the door close behind them that you turn to face Kanaya.
"That was not troll second base," she says, glow illuminating the faint texture on the pulled back curtain and you know how much it's irritating her not to be able to control it.
Your hand slips into hers and you lead her out from against the window, dust settling against her hair as she gets caught in the velvet. You make no move to brush it from her. Curiosity is one thing, but you don't know where the cultural marker for horns and contact is, and despite Kanaya's assertion, you've never seen Karkat and Kanaya interact in that manner and they're the closest on this damn rock.
"I should hope not," you say, flashing her a quick smile as you pick your way across the debris of neglect and time. "We don't want to scar poor, innocent Dave. But Kanaya, if I do cross a line, I need you to tell me."
Kanaya smiles, picking her skirt up as she steps over a mangled monitor. "Likewise."
You hold open the door for her, your other hand still wrapped around hers because neither of you have let go yet. It's nice.
"Thank you for letting me share your hiding space."
A smile dangerously close to a smirk graces Kanaya's lips. "I am sure you found it entirely by accident."
You only drop her hand when you push open the door to the common area.
***
You are Atlas, carrying the weight of the sky upon your shoulders, and it is bending you over, beating you down, and crushing the back of your skull. Your hands are clamped around soft blankets clamped around your ears, trying in vain to block out the voices of the gods above you.
You are a god in name only. How can you be anything more when you exist as a servant to those beyond, a tiny child who plays at power, but is unable to carry it. Their chatter is nonsensical, infuriating you further as you lie curled over in your bed, surrounded by darkness. You long for home, for your mother to make a fuss as you insist she do otherwise, and for her to draw you up close to her, to smooth your hair as you cry.
Your mother isn't here. She's long dead, along with your cat, your real home, your school, most of your friends, and anyone who once served you at a restaurant or crossed you in the street. Unfortunately for Earth, you are one quarter of what is left of humanity, an eighth if you are optimistic, and you know that you are a poor representative.
You refuse to get out of bed today.
***
Kanaya saw her opportunity and she pounced. Jade had whined at you until you agreed to at least find something to eat, and send her photographic evidence of such, and Kanaya cornered you in the kitchen, dress in one hand. You suspect that Jade let her know when the time would be ripe, and now you are a mannequin in one of the lighter, and cared for, rooms on the meteor.
"Now if you could strike a pose, please Rose," Kanaya asks, and you roll your eyes, still holding the laced hem.
"What do you mistake me for, a model?"
"Well, that is your primary function in trying on my clothes. So, yes."
You have to admit, she's got you there. Kanaya knows it, and folds her arms and waits. You groan loudly, but you smile too, although her face is still blank. Your poker face has met its match, and it's only in part due to Kanaya's skill. Mostly it's because you look at her and you break into a ridiculously wide smile, and sometimes you even flash your teeth. Your mother would be delighted, hanging around the doorframe prepared to capture the moment, the flash turned on to obnoxiously bright so you knew she was there. She won't be, and that's not okay, but you think you will be. One day.
"Alright then Edna Mode, which kind of pose would you like me to take up?" Letting go of the hem, the blue fabric falls down past your ankles but not reaching the stool. You run your hands up over it before placing them above your head, fingers spread. "I can be a tree. A... tree with a face and no leaves. And one with a malfunction in the chloroplasts so it's blue rather than green- shit, I'm a tree, so-" You're babbling, your face is red and you can feel the sweat on your palms. You're embarrassing yourself, but around Kanaya you can't seem to mind. Too much.
Kanaya smiles, just a small quirk in the corner of her lips because she's working, focusing more on the design than on you and you know that you want to change that. You run through the muscular person, the zombie, and the thinker poses and all you glean is a frown and pursed lips as Kanaya fusses over the sleeves. Her hand grazes your wrists as she rolls up the laced cuffs and you gasp, you actually sodding gasp, and she's kind enough not to notice, or she may actually be more interested in the slit in the dress than what it reveals.
Yesterday you refused to get out of bed; you had fully intended on doing the same today, but here you are, in one of the few bright rooms on the meteor that won't burn you alive after twelve minutes, making a fool out of yourself because Kanaya asked you and wanting desperately to make her laugh. The thinker, the muscle woman, the gorilla; each of these poses has fallen by the wayside and you are faced with the prospect of failure when one last act hits you.
"Or how about a superhero?" You strike the traditional Superman pose, the long sleeves draping down to form wings, and you lean forwards on your front leg. You wobble horrendously, your left foot now off the stool, and you feel yourself falling, shut your eyes tight, when a pair of arms wrap themselves around your waist. You regain your balance and you're aware of each of Kanaya's fingers splayed against your spine.
"Whoops," you say, looking down at her face tucked against your stomach and you feel her shaking.
She's laughing. Really laughing, and you place a hand gently on the top of her head
and stroke her hair as you laugh as well.
"Okay," you manage after Kanaya's loud laughs have cooled into quiet giggles. "Okay, I'm sure it wasn't quite that funny."
"No, it really rather was quite that funny." Kanaya lifts her head from your stomach and you feel the loss immediately, and do your best not to let it show on your face. Going by the look she gives you, you're pretty sure that you've failed.
Hell, you failed weeks ago.
Your hand feels lost against your side until she takes it, leading you towards the ancient sofa. You both fall into it, Kanaya sliding into you as she does so.
"You are usually very graceful, so when you were not-"
"Oh, who's the one to talk about grace? You point out your little finger when you drink blood out of glasses."
Kanaya gives you a very pointed look. "That, Rose, is class. Not grace. There is a firm distinction."
She looks so adamant about your lack of semantic classification that you fall back into the arm of the sofa and laugh, your feet tapping kicking the floor as you do so.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry Kanaya, it's just-" You place your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughs and you think you gain control over it when you glance over at Kanaya and snort. "Okay," you finally say, setting your hands in your lap. "Okay, I've got it."
Kanaya takes one of your hands and examines it, a faint green tint in her cheeks. "No you have not."
The moment of silence that passes between you is heavy and expectant, and you look at each other, your left side bordered against her right. You can feel your hands beginning to sweat again and you giggle nervously.
"You'd never guess that I did ballet."
"Does ballet involve walking around certain subjects very carefully on the tips of your feet in order to avoid discussing them?"
"Well, actually... that is one way of putting it."
"Then please consider me not surprised at all."
You could feign a headache and excuse yourself to your room. It wouldn't be difficult. But you don't want to tempt fate and you know that things have to change one way or the other between the two of you. What's more unnerving is the fact you are not as scared as you know you should be.
"Is there something you wish to discuss?"
Kanaya observes you for a moment, the tinge in her cheeks deepening, but she must decide that you are going to stay buried in the depths of the sofa because she asks, much to your surprise, "Is this a date?"
"Excuse me?"
"A date. Except Terezi informed me that human dates usually occur at places such as the Dark Carnival where one attempts to expose the weakness of the other by riding on the spinning half ovals for hours on end until one of them gives in, so I am a little confused as to how this may qualify..."
You make a note to attempt to visit this Dark Carnival and then you turn to face her properly on the sofa, crossing your legs underneath you.
"They can be. Or sometimes dates include music and dancing. A film, perhaps. Or they can just be spending time together and talking about things- your interests, what's going on in your life, that sort of thing."
Any chips you hold you should just cash in because your poker face has gone on a permanent vacation. Your face is now a deep red and you are grateful that you are not in your god tier pyjamas because you are certain that the clash would be hideous. Kanaya tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows.
"Does that mean that Terezi and I have been on a date?"
"Not necessarily. Dates tend to be..." You trail off, unsure how best to explain it without exposing yourself completely, but Kanaya seems to be urging you on, and you suspect that she knows a lot more than she's letting on. "Dates tend to be with people you feel particularly...affectionate towards. Those whom you feel close to, and want to spend a large percentage of your time with, to have fun and talk about your problems with, and sometimes, but not always, wish to have physical intimacy with."
Kanaya mulls this over, and you hold your breath, only to exhale sharply when she asks, "What percentage of your time?"
"You're doing this on purpose."
"No. What percentage?"
"I don't know- you are. You are definitely doing this on purpose.
With a smirk, Kanaya readjusts your headband. "No more than when you suddenly lost your balance."
You want to pretend to be offended, to insist that you don't need to resort to such dire actions, but Kanaya finishes fiddling with your headband and softly kisses the top of your head, rendering you incapable of anything except a large smile and a surprised squeak. Leaning back to look at you, Kanaya takes your hands in hers, and this thankfully prevents you from waving them.
"Does that fall under the category of physical affection?"
"I would imagine so. We will, however, need to expand on the focus group to reach a firm conclusion." You lean up and place a kiss on her cheek, lingering until you feel the stretch of her smile reach you.
Kanaya hums and leans her head onto your shoulder, twining her fingers in-between yours. "That is all well and good, but I am not sure that it falls within the confines of one of these dates. Both participants are usually aware of their partaking in such an event, are they not?"
"Usually." You rest your head on top of hers and look down at your hands. You feel calm, collected. For once you feel almost stable, as if you're not living on a meteor hurtling through space, chased by your best friend's dog crossed with a murderer. "Would you maybe like to increase the percentage of your time spent with me sometime? On a date. A real date. If you wanted to."
"Eight tonight sounds wonderful."
"I can meet you in the common area."
Kanaya hums and you close your eyes, until she lifts her head from her shoulders to look at you with concern. "Rose, does this mean that I have to leave now?"
"No Kanaya, you can stay for as long as you wish."
You wake an hour later and remove Kanaya's arm from your stomach. The cool calm that filled you earlier has vanished, replaced by nerves and expectations that refuse to be buried. Placing a kiss on Kanaya's forehead before you leave, you decide that five hours is plenty of time to get ready. Even if the only standards you have for the date are those you set yourself, you are determined to take her on the best date ever.
TT: Jade, I feel I should warn you that there may be some upcoming 'alien activity'.