Re: Ice cream: Cat & Reece
Cat had a tiny thing about being taken. It was a recent thing, of course, because she just didn't understand how it happened. Cat counted herself as amazingly agile, a survivor, a fighter, and yet she'd been dragged into a dark room and kept there. And that was another problem, the fact that she hadn't been able to escape. Until that moment, Cat had assured anyone who asked that there wasn't a prison that could hold her. And there hadn't been, not until recently. It all left her feeling a little vulnerable, but it was something she had to overcome. She would force herself to overcome it.
Cat didn't cuddle. She didn't snuggle. She didn't fall asleep in beds with boys she'd never slept with. None of these things happened, so she wasn't examining them even a little bit. It was easier, as she'd done with Adrian, to talk about obsessions and killing people. That was more her style, unlike '80s and '90s teen movies. "Is Stephanie filling the role of my parents in this version of teenagehood?" She was teasing.
But, his perch, it was post certainly gone. She laughed when he asked about the pants, because this shirt? Was more decent than some of the things she deliberately went out in. The boy shorts were practically chaste, and the shirt reached to mid-thigh, and that was nearly a nun's habit. So, Matt, that was the subject she decided to address as he fell into step beside her. "I remember meeting him. He was training me in the dacha in Russia. We had sex. We got caught, and he was put on ice as a result. Literally. They would freeze him in this container between missions. So he wouldn't age, I guess? I don't know how his version of the serum works." She looked over at him, gauging his reaction to that. "It's your turn to confess something."