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deathweaver · 10 years

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the book of love is long and boring, and no one can lift the damn thing

HIGH SCHOOL AU + ADRA & CATSOVI

FOR SOPHIA

MERR CHRISMAS i love u

Adrasteius hated to admit it, but he was nervous. He fidgeted at the counter, playing with the edge of his scarf--a cream-colored, silk object emblazoned with the unknown initials of someone apparently famous and well-regarded, a gift from Catsovi that earned Adra numerous approving (bewildering) compliments. He noticed the barista staring at it lustily--a girl with waves of glossy hair, shimmering red nailpolish, and tiny cuts on her finger pads, indicative of someone who worked with a lot of sewing needles. An art student, he guessed, probably even a classmate at the university.

“Another latte?” she murmured, eyes fixed on the scarf, which rippled like water over Adra’s palm, translucent and flawless.

He wound it tightly around his wrist, and she cringed. “Yeah. Venti.”

Cat was supposed to meet him here an hour ago. He had said they ‘needed to talk’. Adra wasn’t an expert on relationships--Cat being his first and only one--but every pop magazine cover he’d ever sneered at had those words typed in ominous font.

This was his third venti soy latte (with two hits of espresso and extra foam) and his nerves, strung like barbed wire even in their natural state, were paying the price.

Adra curled up in one of the big, squashy leather chairs, holding the cup to his chest. His hands shook--not powerfully, not enough to suggest any palsy other than fear.

Ridiculous. He scowled--at the envious barista, at the other patrons, absorbed in their laptops and phones and secure, happy lives. At his foamy cup, bubbling over, dribbling slightly down the sides. Graduation was one finals week away. Of course, they were both applying to grad school: Cat was headed in for law, and Adra wanted a doctorate in political science.

They both had a long road ahead of them, but maybe Catsovi had decided to go it alone? Maybe he was bored. He had always been a capricious, picky person. He made friends and then discarded them a month later, offended by their taste in clothes or an off-hand remark or the way they pursed their lips while talking. Once he had declared someone dead to him after, out to dinner, this person had muttered while reading the menu to himself. A gross habit. Intolerable.

And how many things about Adrasteius were intolerable? He had a modicum of self-awareness. He was a difficult person. Morally uncompromising. Irritable. Spiteful, at times.

Adra shrunk back against the chair. His heart pounded a war rhythm against his rib cage. He was going to die before Cat ever got here. Die, gasping and alone, in the middle of a Starbucks. No dirge but the abominable Top 40 ringtone of the nearest iWhatever 50x. No mourners--

“Adra!” Cat burst in, shouting his name, oblivious to the rest of the public (perhaps enjoying their startled glances). “Sorry for the tardiness, darling. The professor kept us late.”

“Oh?” Adra said. It was a monumental effort not to stammer. His teeth chattered, felt mechanical and beyond his control.

“Yes, hugely annoying. Come on, no time for my usual.” Cat held out his hand.

“I thought we needed to talk.”

“We do. Desperately. But not here.”

Anxiety struck Adra like a poison, fast-acting and foreign. Catsovi, impatient, grabbed Adrasteius and yanked him up, pulling him out into the chilly afternoon.

“Hey--” Adra said, nearly dropping his cup. He stumbled after Cat, trying to dodge slick patches of ice on the sidewalk, jostling his way through the swiftly moving crowd.

The sky was washed out, dim with clouds, threatening sleet. Adra shivered, but not from the frigid wind that blew his scarf back against his neck. It was Catsovi’s face -- so focused and intense, tight with determination. It was the way he didn’t look back, just propelled them both forward, racing to some unknown destination.

Adrasteius couldn’t bear it.

He halted, causing Cat to trip as Adra’s body turned rigid. Cat sputtered indignantly as his knee brushed the wet pavement and a dark, damp spot spread over the delicate fabric of his pants.

“What the hell!” he hissed, patting frantically at the spot. “God, I just had these dry-cleaned.”

“Tell me what’s going on. Right fucking now.” Adra’s cheeks burned.

“What?” Cat said, and he paused, because Adrasteius had begun to shake. “Adra …”

They had stopped near an ornate fountain. The pool around the center statue (a woman, holding up a basket of lilies) was frozen, and the statue dripped with icicles. Cat pulled Adra a bit closer, so that they were directly in front of it, and Adra stared at the coins trapped beneath the ice.

He could bounce a quarter off of the pool’s surface, but that might complicate the wish-granting process. Probably the coin had to sink to the bottom for a valid wish. He was reaching into his pocket, desperate for a distraction, for some way to exit this moment, when Cat took his hand.

“Adra. I need to say something.”

Adra seized up. He shut his eyes, and felt tears leak through. Embarrassing. Weak. He didn’t dare to breathe.

“Or, more precisely,” Cat went on, “I need to ask you something.”

“What?” Adra said, faintly. He sniffled.. Cat was down on his knee, the same stained knee he’d been fussing over just minutes ago. “Catsovi. Your pants.”

Cat shrugged. “They’re due back again, anyway.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box.

“I wanted to say that -- that I love you. And -- you’ve done so much for me, and it’s been so good, and --” He shook his head. “Listen, this was all really elegant and articulate in my head.”

“Cat,” Adra said, dumbly. “What’s happening right now?”

Catsovi opened the box. The ring was nestled in purple satin, and it was a gold band of rubies and diamonds: small, simple, but the gems twinkled like stars, like Cat’s pale eyes, big and expectant with hope.

“I’m asking you to marry me, Adrasteius,” Catsovi said. His voice had lost its usual assurance, its confident smirk. He spoke softly. Nervously. He cleared his throat.

“I thought you wanted to break up!” Adra blurted.

“What?" Cat said. “What!”

“You said, ‘we need to talk’. That’s fucking break up diction!”

“It is not,” Catsovi said. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” Adra said. “I, I really thought ..”

And then he couldn’t go on, because the tears came in force, torrential and unstoppable. He sobbed into his hands, before Cat, the fountain, before everybody surging past and slowing down to watch, his narrow shoulders quaking.

Catsovi stood up quickly and wrapped his arms around Adra’s waist. “Oh, no. No, darling.”

He pressed his cheek to Adra’s hair and murmured. “But you still haven’t answered the question.”

“Of course,” Adra cried. “Of course I’ll marry you, you stupid jackass.”

Cat turned his head and kissed Adra, holding him tight and still, clutching at Adra’s waist, at the back of his neck.

“Fantastic,” he said, breathlessly, when they pulled apart. He slipped the ring on Adra’s finger, and heat rushed through Adra’s body, an incredible warmth that had nothing to do with magic or his blood and everything to do with the broad, genuine smile on Cat’s face.

“Now, darling,” Cat said, “we really must be going. I meant to do this at Restaurant Orchid, and we’re twenty minutes late for our reservation. I swear, if they’ve given up our table, I’ll have the manager’s head on a platter --”

Adra squeezed Cat’s hand as they started walking again, too relieved to lecture.

Too happy.

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