Re: Quicklog, Carnival: Cat/Reece
[Cat wasn't drunk, and she wasn't stoned. She was, however, nervous. She was the kind of nervous that understood she was sabotaging things without seemingly being able to stop herself, and it was maddening. It was like she could see her own actions up on some big screen, something in one of those theaters she liked so much with the plush seats, and she couldn't do anything but throw popcorn at her own face in an attempt to change the stage directions.
In other words, she knew she was fucking it up; she just didn't know how to stop.
Maybe asking Reece to meet her was the wrong thing to do, but she'd always been a hands on type of gal, and she trusted herself in his face more than she did via iPhone keypad. It might all go to shit, but at least she felt like she stood a fighting chance at getting it right in person. And, alright, so she'd disconnected her phone, and so she'd technically broken up with him, but that wasn't precisely at the forefront of her mind as she paid for her ticket and made her way to the ferris wheel.
And she most certainly wasn't thinking about being gay, or about him being gay, and she wasn't wearing a jacket. Because, well, she looked cuter without one. Curls in her face and hands in her pockets, she walked up to the ferris wheel.
Reece was tall, and picking him out of the crowd at the foot of the ferris wheel was easy. Her step slowed a little, but that was nervousness, and she forced her stride to lengthen again a moment later. The length of her steps was all boy, but there enough movement to her hips to proclaim her as very gay, and she stopped in front of him and his cider with a bit of playful hop. Of course, this close? She could smell the booze on him, but she didn't harp. After all? She wasn't that much of a hypocrite. Instead, she plucked one of the ciders from between his fingers as drizzle collected in dark curls.] For me? [She touched his cheek, just below one of the legs of his glasses.] Nice look.