"Jade?" The voice is shy, quiet, weak. Your ears barely pick it up, but you know it too well to doubt if it was a voice or just the wind. She's sitting on your lap with your arms wrapped around her like a coat. Your chin rests gently on her shoulder.
"What?" You don't know what's bothering her, but it's usually something silly and childish that you almost always laugh at - almost. You don't though, or else she'll be upset with you. It was never fun to have a sad Cat.
She visibly cringes at your rough tone, and you sigh because it's as soft as it ever has been. She leans her head into yours because it fits so nicely before continuing. "Do you even really like me?" Her words surprise you. For a moment you are completely speechless.
Stealing her signature phrase, the words fall from your mouth: "What's that supposed to mean?" You know your voice sounds shocked, but based on her startled face, she reads your eyes as hurt. You raise an eyebrow in questioning, hoping she will giggle like she always does when you make that face.
She looks down at her lap and plays with her favourite locket that you've seen one thousand and thirty-seven times. Inside is a picture of her deceased mother embracing her from behind, and Cat is laughing. Your Cat. "You never act like we're going out. I mean, I've always been the one to make arrangements and hold your hand and kiss you and all that stuff." She looks up briefly. "It's almost unresponsive."
You adjust her body on your lap so she can face you easier. "But I let you," you whisper faintly, pressing your foreheads together. She gulps audibly, and you watch her skin flush a deep pink that contrasts horrendously with her red velvet hair. She's still ridiculously cute, you think to yourself. "Sure, I don't always want to spend my Fridays playing baby golf with your home made purple putter." At this she pouts. "I doubt that you'd want to creep around the graveyards at night either." Her face pales at the suggestion, and you hug her around the waist to help keep her upright in your lap. "Though golf itself isn't that amusing, I still go anyway."
She bats innocent eyelashes at you and sticks out her bottom lip to form her question inside her head. It's one of her many quirks that you smile about and list inside your head when you're bored or going to sleep. "Why? I thought you had fun."
You almost gag at the thought of playing a branch of golf even lower than put-put for sheer amusement. You hold it back for her. "I do. You're victory dance is completely worth it." You grin at the memories of her jumping up and down upon getting hole-in-ones. She giggles a little, relaxing in your arms. "That squeal can be a bit ear-splitting, though." Yet for some reason you think it's cute, and that's sickening for you to think about. Here you are cuddling with an adorable bundle of joy.
She scoots off to adjust herself into a position of straddling your waist this time. Her arms rest on your shoulders and she grinswickedly at you. You probably taught her that face at one point. "So you're saying I'm super cute?" This game you know all too well.
"I'm saying you're completely adorable," your tone is husky now, but you know to flatter her and let her be in charge at least until your lips make contact. Her eyes sparkle at your eagerness as she runs a cold hand through your ratty hair.
"Really?" she whispers, and you can practically taste that cotton candy lip gloss that she always wears. You don't quite understand what she says though because her strawberry shampoo is so sweet and strong against your nostrils that you can hardly bare it. Still you nod instinctively as she gently presses her lips to yours. It always starts gentle until you feel her smile into the kiss. That smile gives you permission for all access to Cat Valentine.
And yet you hate yourself because you can barely breathe when she's around you. You're like putty in her hands, and that's so cliche that it kills you. You'd never dream of dumping her though because you know you need her. She's slowly teaching you how to love, and it's so mushy that your brain freezes sometimes. She knows what she's doing, and you know you need to emulate her.
Erm, this was really fluffy. It almost hurts. I was writing a Jat angst, but I had to write some Cade fluff somewhere in there. I also tried second person for the first time. Then I tried to go back to the Jat and had trouble getting back into it since it was in third person. Oh - and I use Jat with angst and Cade with fluff. (: If you leave feedback it works amazingly.