Chapter Text
Oddly enough, it’s the first thing she notices about him. When she flicks her gaze downwards, avoiding his eyes, Katherine catches a glance of a pair of rough, work-worn hands.
***
Her hands are small—what’s the word? Dainty?—Jack thinks as she points to the chalkboard, calls him out on his flirtin’. Almost like they’d break if ya held ‘em too tight.
***
Katherine catches him drawing during the show, the movements of his hands fluid and sure. She’s surprised at the ease of the motion, enthralled even, that it’s not until she notices that his gaze is shifting between the page and her face that she realizes he drawing her.
What are you doing?!
***
In the private box, dimly lit, Jack sees her hands again as she writes in her notebook. They still look small, but there’s a smudge of graphite on her thumb, ink smeared on her wrist.
***
She sees him in Medda’s theater, backdrop freshly painted, and, for the first time, Katherine notices the paint dotting the backs of his hands, dried under his fingernails. And she’s surprised to see such hardened hands create things so lovely.
***
If I were a boy, you’d be looking at me through one swollen eye!
He challenges her, tells her to give it her best shot, tucks her fist under his chin. Jack feels her fingers clench and he seriously thinks she’s about to hit him. Instead, both her hands come up to grasp the sides of his face and she kisses him. And he realizes that her hands are stronger than they appear.
***
Katherine turns to leave him in the basement with Darcy and Bill; she needs to get across town to see the governor, but before she can, he clasps her hand to his chest. The hand over hers is warm, calloused, and gentler than she was expecting.
Wish us luck.
***
She takes his hand, promises him she’ll stay by his side no matter what he chooses.
For sure?
For sure.
He squeezes her hand, kisses her in front of the Newsies, the governor, her father. He doesn’t care. They part and he makes his decision.
Hand-in-hand, they walk into a new tomorrow.