Logs:The joy of our hearts has ceased; our dancing has been turned to mourning.

The joy of our hearts has ceased; our dancing has been turned to mourning.
Dramatis Personae Kitty, Leo
In Absentia	2024-08-03 "Where can we go from here?
Location <PRV> Kitty and Marinov's Apartment {Cathaus} - Lower East Side
This high ceiling, fourth floor apartment is on its way to being well lived in. The walls are a light cream colour, the spotless hardwood floors stained a rich red-brown. The door opens into the living room, always bright with natural light coming in the windows or the glow of the twin pink rock salt lamps nestled on the one of the sills. Small succulents and other resilient, cat-safe houseplants dot the windowsills and nearby surfaces – one on the low coffee table between the faux-leather couch and the television mounted on the wall, another on a brushed-metal ladder bookshelf squeezed into a corner. There are no rugs, nothing that can collect fur, but the couch and floor are both covered in pillows. In a corner, wedged between the wall and the bookshelf, is a stack of protest signs, the majority gathered from the long year of Jackson Holland's imprisonment. On the wall opposite the television, there is a framed poster of the Cat’s Eye Nebula from an astrophysics conference. To the left of this space is a small kitchen, just large enough to fit two people in it, if one of them can walk through other people. To the right is a small hallway, leading to the washroom and two bedrooms. The nearer bedroom door has a small blue mezuzah on the doorframe, newly fastened to the wood, and a ceramic hamsa attached to the center of the door. Knock knock knock! Was Kitty expecting company? Company is here, standing slightly nervously outside the door with a woven wicker picnic basket and a small black box wrapped in blue velvet ribbon. Leo is dressed in a white linen suit in a slim, modern cut, a matching vest with intricate openwork Taal embroidery, a scarlet dress shirt set off by a silver-and-white tie with abstract embossed wave patterns, and polished black oxford shoes. Though his clothes are impeccable he looks a little more run-down, slightly tired, more than slightly gaunt. There’s a wait for the door to unlock, to pull slightly open, a little longer than it really should take for someone to get from the furthest corner of the apartment. On the other side, Kitty’s expression is — well, it’s trying determinedly for neutral, but her eyes are wide and her lips are falling open into a soft "—oh. Hi." She brushes a curl that’s fallen out of her bun out of her face, brushes that hand nervously down the front of her blue tank top, maybe now realizes that she’s just, uh, staring at her boyfriend, at the picnic basket. "— Come in," is a little more confident, though it takes another minute before Kitty’s recovered her wits enough to actually step out of Leo’s way. After the door clicks shut behind her, Kitty's right hand twists restlessly at the empty space on her left wrist. "Are you okay, are you..." She doesn't finish, but her gaze keeps going to the hollow places in Leo's face. "Hi." Leo is hesitant, even after the invite. He steps inside with a small duck of his head, his fingers fidgeting slightly with the bow on the box. "It's been -- I've had -- this year has been -- I haven't been --" He shakes his head, his shoulders tight. "I'm sorry." Kitty lets out a long breath that could almost be a sigh of relief. Almost, if not for the tension still remaining in her shoulders. Almost, if not for the darting glance to the velvet ribbon and then away. She rocks back onto her heels then takes a half-step back, lingering in the entryway. "For which parts?" The question is soft, gentle, just small enough to not be an accusation. "It’s been a long year. I think — I think we have to talk about some of it." She swallows. "About DC. In the spring. And now, too, I guess. Um." Her fingers curl down hard on her wrist. "If you're not, um, under an NDA or something. Haha." She says 'haha', weakly, and maybe it's the embarassment from that awkward move that compels her to actually step into the living area, nod her head towards the couch. "I made dinner. You don't -- have to..." Leo trails off, shifting just a little uncomfortable where he stands. Then following after Kitty, slow, towards the living room. He sets the basket on the table, sets the box beside the basket. "I think I just do not know how to turn up empty-handed." He settles himself kind of stiffly down on the edge of the couch, his hands folding tight in his lap. "It's been a long year. I could have been around more. But." "But you were busy." Kitty sits on the table for half a second, stands back up, half sits on the arm of the couch, stands up again, and finally settles on sitting a hands width from Leo on the couch, back against the cushion and knees pulled up in front of her. "With Gaza. And also the Brotherhood." Now there's an edge of accusation, a small tinge of hurt. Kitty curls her toes into the seat, scrunching and disappearing. Her gaze lands on the little box again. Her voice gets quieter. "… Can you tell me what happened at HAMMER?" "With a many of things." Leo's hand twitches, but does not actually unfold, does not move from its tight clench in his lap. "Like Gaza. And the Brotherhood. I was not at HAMMER. Not -- until later." He presses his fingers down hard against his knuckles, and his brow is slowly pulling inward, his voice lower. "But it was one of mine. An old -- old. One." Kitty lets out another breath. In the no-mans land between them, she slowly lays out one open palm. Not quite reaching out. Not not reaching out, either. "Do you know how it got there?" Leo's eyes dart to Kitty's upturned hand, but his own stay firmly folded together. The silence unfurls long enough between them to be its own answer. "Is that a question you really want me to answer." Kitty's fingers curl inward. "I love you." Breath in. Breath out. "I can't keep on not asking questions. Not if -- you want..." She rolls her head back to stare at the ceiling, wisps of hair disappearing into the couch. Squeezes her eyes shut. "Where can we go from here? Who do I have to be to know you?" "I know. I know." Leo's voice is low, his head shaking. "A couple years now I have been so worried of being with you -- worried that I had no life to offer you. Only I'm still worried now, and I can't just blame the government." His hands twist within each other, fingers interlacing and unlacing again in a stiff tangle. "If you start asking, I will start answering, and. That -- might not be." He glances, brief, to the side, forearms tensing with another restrained impulse to reach out. "Do you want to know me? I don't know where that leads." "I don't either. But if you still want me -- want us, now -- wherever you go, I need to be able to follow. I can't do that without knowing where you're going or how you got there." Solid fingertips find Leo's hand. Kitty's face is still turned up towards the heavens, eyes still firmly shutting out the world. "Can we just. Try. For you, I'll try to understand." "I want you," Leo affirms, and though this declaration is sure it twists his voice up tighter with hurt. "But I --" His fingers close gently around hers, and he's making effort to keep his breathing steady. "HAMMER was working with the dregs of Prometheus to keep weaponizing our torture. Aiming for genocide, ultimately. I don't know where we go in a world like that. I don't know how to not do something, and what I do is... is not. Not." He trails off, here, his shoulders hunching tighter inward and his words less steady. "Where I'm going, I -- you. Shouldn't follow. I want to make a world where that's not a choose we have to make. I don't know what that means. Maybe it means I go." Kitty squeezes Leo’s hand, gentle at first but tightening as he finishes speaking. "We could make it together," she says at last, soft and trembling. Kitty rolls her head forward, looks at her boyfriend with tear-bright eyes. "You in your way, me in m-mine. Or yours-- I could learn to -- This doesn't need to be..." She swallows, hard. Relaxes her grip ever so slowly. "... goodbye." Leo's eyes have gone a little wider at could learn to, and the quick shake of his head is almost reflexive. His hand lifts, drawing Kitty's up with it, and he's still holding hers tight when he bows his head to press a kiss to her knuckles. "I think -- maybe. Until there is somewhere safer to be. Maybe it does." Kitty turns to Leo fully, her free fingers ghosting across (ghosting through) his jawline, over his cheek. Doesn't move to wipe away the tears on hers. "Until then," she whispers, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek before her hand turns into empty air in his grip. "Just until then." Leo's head turns, slight. His cheek brushes gently against Kitty's damp one for a brief moment, before that moment evanesces. "Until then, mahal ko." And then, near silent except for his unsteady breaths, he's slipping away.