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Chapter Text

Kara never really believed she had a soulmate.

"The day you hear someone else's music in your ears," Rose had always told her, "is the day you're beginning to really grow up."

Kara couldn't truly believe her. Hearing music in your head was something that happened to other people--an experience that everyone had shared that she really couldn't comprehend.

Your soulmate's music could play through the tendrils of time and space itself, the red string linking you to the person you were destined to meet.

It sounded like a beautiful, special experience. . . and not one for her.

Adam had begun to hear it when he was only eleven, and Kara was eight. He had leapt off the sofa and bounded about the house, shouting.

Apparently, Katy Perry had never sounded so wonderful.

Luther, her superior by only a single year, was next. At twelve, the boy had woken her up in the middle of the night to inform her quietly that he was hearing his soulmate's music.

"What're they playing?" Kara had asked sleepily.

He smiled widely. "Some country song."

"Poor you," she murmured, grinning, and rolled back over, pulling the sheets over her head.

A part of her wondered if she even had a soulmate. She was always a late bloomer, and it would be just like her to hear the music when she was an old, thirty year-old woman.

However, when she confided to her adoptive mother about these thoughts, Rose was sure Kara was just being silly. "Everyone has a soulmate," she affirmed seriously. "You don't need to be worried about that."

Still, nothing could quash the private little stress of a preteen girl about fate.

She needn't have been worried.

One morning, when she was pouring Alice some cereal, she felt a faint prickling sensation in her inner ear.

"What's wrong?" Alice had asked worriedly, spoon halfway to her mouth.

"I don't--"

Instantaneously, the prickling stopped. Like the beginnings of a dam's final moments, she felt something crack.

A blast of heavy metal flooded her ears, crashing down upon her mind like a tidal wave, reaching every crack and crevice. Putting a hand over each ear did nothing to break the connection: closing her eyes almost made it worse. It wasn't painful--it was a different kind of agony.

Something had opened up that she knew, instinctively, she would never be able to close.

Kara dropped to her knees.

"Kara!" Alice cried, jumping out of her seat and rushing for her sister.

"What's going on?" Rose called from upstairs. "Alice?"

"Something's wrong with Kara!"

Rose bounded down the stairs and was there in a moment. Kara flopped down onto the ground, gritting her teeth.

"Kara, sweetheart, what's wrong?" she begged, trying to pry Kara's hands away from her ears. Suddenly, her eyes widened in realization. "Is it--"

"That jerk is blasting Knights of the Black Death in my ear at eight in the morning!"

Connor always knew he would love his soulmate.

From the first time it was mentioned to him by Hank--"she won't quit playing jazz again"--he was ecstatic to know this person who would be his other half.

What would she be like? Would she be a sweet, gentle girl, who supported his decisions and offered him wise advice? Would she be a strong, powerful woman, his partner, his rock? Would she be blonde, ginger, brunette? With dark skin, or light?

Would she be able to make him laugh?

Now, Connor was the type of kid who had it all planned out. He was going to be a detective, just like his father--busting drug rings and making a name for himself from the very first day. He was going to have thirty dogs, each one trained to hunt down criminals and help him in his investigations.

Yes, Connor had his life under control. He trained for his future job--his future passion--by walking Sumo every day. Playing sports as much as Hank allowed him to. And, of course, playing cops and robber video games.

Which may have been more for fun and less for training, but it was somewhat relevant, so who cared?

One particular Saturday morning, when Connor was thirteen, he had convinced Hank to play with him, at least for a while. With their favorite music blasting in the background, the duo were in the process of taking down some bank robbers.

Hank was shouting about something, and Connor had turned to look at him as the man gestured widely with the controller. But the moment was a catalyst--something was happening, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on, thanks to the sensory overload of the situation.

After a moment, the barrier shattered, and he knew.

"Dad," he said, slowly. "I think I just connected to my soulmate."

Hank's baffled expression went to one of startled recognition in an instant. "What, really? Right now?"

"Yes," he replied, trying not to jump for joy. His heart was pounding with ecstasy--this was a moment he knew he'd remember his whole life.

Hank broke the spell. "With this shit playing, too?"

"Oh." Connor blinked, "Oh, no!"

Hastily, he switched off the stereo, leaving the room in silence.

"Are they listening to anything?" his father asked, at a loss.

"No, not yet. . . wait."

He cocked his head, trying to listen. But it was all so new, the tingling feeling of union with somebody out there, somebody who he was going to meet--

Connor fell off the couch.

"Whoa, shit!" Hank dropped to the ground. "What's happening, you all right?"

"She's. . ."

The tune suddenly playing in his head was unmistakable.

". . . she's playing Everything is Awesome."

Connor was the type to plan out every move. To understand the situation to a "T". He was the type to want to control everything to the most minute detail.

However, one thing Connor couldn't control was his soulmate--his fate.

But damned if he wasn't going to try.

Chapter Text

For weeks, all Connor heard was Barbie music in his head. And he knew it was Barbie music because he looked it up on a search engine, typing in the words that characterized the ringing in his ears, and wasn’t at all surprised at the results.

"Dad," he told his father desperately, "she's trying to kill me."

Hank merely chuckled. "Got a spitfire, huh?"

"It's not funny, Dad."

His father completely disagreed.

Connor, after nearly seventeen days of this nonsense, decided to retaliate.

"Alexa, what's the world's worst song?"

"Jimmy Webb's MacArthur Park is popularly held as the worst song ever written."

"Thanks, Alexa!"

Kara didn't know what compelled her to listen to so much Barbie music. All she knew were two facts:

1. Her soulmate could hear what she was listening to--or at least a sort of echo of it. The sort you hear when the song's stuck in your head and you can't quite seem to get rid of it.

2. Her soulmate was a jerk.

Okay, so maybe she knew what she was doing. But could anyone blame her for doing it?

Kara couldn't deny that she was curious about her soulmate, at least a bit, but that curiosity was overshadowed with the desire to bother him, as a kind of 'fuck-you' for that first terrible moment. Maybe it was a bit spiteful to turn on the Lego Movie song. But hey, the way Kara saw it, if he didn't like The Lego Movie, what kind of a soulmate was he?

A soulmate who listened to heavy metal. And, apparently, Jimmy Webb.

The first few months, they bugged and bothered and tortured one another with the worst types of music they could find--Kara began listening to the most obnoxious showtunes, Connor retaliated with screamo heavy metal. When he sensed that this had stopped bothering her, he switched to simply listening to Welcome to the Black Parade on repeat instead.

He regretted it after she started looping Never Gonna Give You Up and Take On Me.

However, in each, there was always an underlying sense of pride in their soulmate--a bit of fondness. That kind of connection simply sprung fondness, no matter what kind of torture they were using it for. It was in the nature of soulmates, they were each told.

Whatever the reason, despite the fact that the two had never met and only communicated by vicious trolling, Connor began to grow on Kara--and vice versa.

He still couldn't wait to meet her.

The car and noise from the windows were loud, but Connor still heard the mutter from the front seat.

"'S not healthy, Con."

He looked up from his calendar, letting his red pen drop into his lap, and stared hard at the offending speaker. "What's not healthy?"

Hank sighed deeply and slumped down a bit. "You keepin' that record of days 'til you meet. . . Look, it could be years before you meet your soulmate."

"You don't know that." The boy stuck out his chin.

"I didn't say I knew, I didn't say it would be!" Hank rubbed his temples and grasped the wheel tightly. "Look. All I know is, you're gettin' totally consumed in this girl. And you haven't even met her."

Connor raised an eyebrow. "She's my soulmate, Dad. I don't have to meet her to know she's perfect."

"Chug! Chug! Chug!"

Kara drained the soda can's remaining contents, gulped, and triumphantly dashed it against the pavement, throwing her arms in the air. The other kids at the party, circled around her in a bizarre sort of ritual, went berserk. Alice, to her right, clapped delightedly.

"Again! Again!" she squealed.

"Not right away, holy cow!" Kara steadied herself and slid to the ground, dizzy. The other party guests were preoccupied with their mirth, so she was grateful when Luther rushed to her side, helping her down a bit.

"Thanks," she muttered, leaning back on the pavement.

"You shouldn't drink so much soda so fast," he reproached. "It's not h--"

"Oh, boo." Kara waved him off. "Come on, guys, let's play some manhunt."

Everyone cheered, including Alice.

"Not you," Luther interrupted, taking her hand. "Come on, don't you want to watch a movie with Mommy?"

She broke away, annoyed. "I wanna play with Kara!"

"I'll play with you later," Kara called. "Manhunt is too scary a game for you, ok, honey?"

Alice stuck out her chin. "Nothing scares me!"

"I know, Alice!" Kara beckoned her sister over. "Can I tell you a secret?"

She nodded, eyes wide.

"It's because," Kara leaned in and whispered, "I know that you'd be too good at this game. The other kids would be sad because you would always beat them. You'd be too good at scaring them all!"

"Really?"

"Yes, so we have to play something later tonight. Just the two of us." She smiled softly. "I always love our games together. You can wait, can't you?"

Alice pouted. "I guess so. If I would be too scary for them."

"I know you would."

"Okay then!" She grabbed Luther's hand and skipped inside. "We'll play later!"

Kara watched her go with a gentle smile.

"Okay, sweetheart."

"Kara!" one of the kids snapped their fingers. "Manhunt?"

"Oh! Right!" Kara jumped to her feet, grateful the wave of dizziness had passed. "Let's go, everyone!"

A few rounds in, Kara came to the somewhat naughty decision to hide about a mile away from base. The grounds at Rose's house were huge, which made the game a lot more fun--especially when you wanted to get away from the group for a little while.

So she scampered through the grove until she came to the end of the long, winding driveway that led to her country home. Giggling, she crawled into the bushes by the side of the road, the perfectly leafy kind that concealed effortlessly.

The radio, up in the garage, began a new song.

In the car, Hank turned on the radio.

You said marriage has a nice ring to it
And my jaw dropped down like the kick drum knew it

Kara blinked. The song echoing in the back of her mind was the same song on the radio.

The connection. . . deepened.

I can't stop and let you go
Baby, I've got a mind to let you know

It was on beat, too. Connor rose slightly in his seat, heart rate leaping up several notches on instinct.

"Dad, stop the car."

"Con, what the hell's--"

"Dad! Stop the car, please!"

I'm not one to take it fast, I've got the best seat back in hist'ry class
One last chance to make it real
Baby, I've gotta tell you how I feel

Kara thumped on the sides of her head with her palms a few times to see if it was just a little error, a little mistake in the universe's programming. In the four months they'd been connected, she'd never once heard the same song as him at the same time, never. It must be some kind of mistake.

Sayin' you
You make me feel so brand-new

. . .Unless they were listening to the same local radio station.

What can I do?

Hank slammed on the brakes, pulling the car over into a nearby ditch. The thick trees around the road made it a tight squeeze, but with some cursing, he managed to avoid hitting any of the brush. Throwing himself back in his seat and an arm around the passenger side shoulder, he shot Connor a death glare to end all death glares.

"What the fuck is goin' on?"

"She's here somewhere," he mumbled. “I can feel it. And the music!”

"Huh?"

Let's toast to the ones that got away
Three cheers for what we didn't say
But if it matters, here's some flowers, cause we're livin' on love

Kara's hands were shaking. She glanced up and down the road, but there was nobody. Nothing.

If they were listening to the radio, they could be anywhere from five miles away to a quarter of a mile up the road. All she needed to do was get out of the bush and make herself seen! Surely, he'd be looking for her!

Let's drink to everything we got
Let's dance for everything we're not
For the whackos and the assholes, we'll be livin' on love

"She's here, my soulmate is listening to the same song!" Connor exclaimed. "I have to find her!"

"What the hell, Con, you can't just--"

Connor threw open the car door and was gone.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

Now we're livin' on love!

Kara was running up the driveway--feet hitting the gravel, breath coming out in short spurts-- towards the radio blasting in the garage.

A friend called out to her--probably asking her what she was doing, where she was going--but she didn't hear them, she wasn't hearing anything except that music.

She reached the radio--and hesitated.

For just a moment.

Now we're livin' on love. . .

Connor crashed through some more bushes. The sound from the car was growing fainter, but he focused on the sound that connected him to her.

Completely focused.

He opened his mouth to shout and remembered--duh!--that he didn't know her name.

"Soulmate!" came weakly out of his mouth as he desperately glanced around at the trees and the isolation. Nobody was around but she had to be somewhere!

And just like magic,

the music switched off.

Kara's trembling hand came away from the power switch. She stepped backwards, away from the silent machine.

A couple of assorted cries of protest arose from various spots on the property. Kara's eyes didn't move from the speakers.

A hand slapped her shoulder. She turned, startled.

"Hey," Adam greeted, watching her carefully. "You all right?"

"I. . ."

Her hands fell to her sides pathetically.

"I'm fine."

"Good. Tag."

Hank was pissed, but Hank was always pissed. Connor wasn't in the mood to deal with his attitude anyways. He sulked in the backseat. The silent treatment usually didn’t work with his dad, but that didn’t stop him from using it.

"It took me half an hour of driving around to find you, you fuckin' maniac," he was complaining bitterly. "You could've gotten lost, could've gotten kidnapped. What if an animal had found you? Huh? What if I was there to protect you and a bear decided you looked like a nice snack?"

"Bears don't attack people to eat them," Connor retorted, his smartass side unable to keep his silence at that.

"Well, what if one did?" Hank continued, nonplussed. "Huh?"

"Dad, I'm fine, okay?" he snapped, turning his head to look out the window at the quickly passing scenery and the setting sun.

I wasn't fast enough.

"You don't sound fine." His father's voice softened. "If you want to sit up front--"

"I don't."

"Hoo boy, okay." Hank turned back to the wheel. "Be like that, then. See if I care."

Another pause, of about ten minutes.

"She was close. I could tell." His voice was barely a whisper, but Connor was confiding. Just a bit.

"You'll find her, kid. Trust me."

Connor huffed and looked back out the window.

"Yeah, but in how long?"

Chapter Text

Kara was fourteen and some and life was okay.

Not perfect. Never perfect.

She found she missed hanging out with her brothers as they spent less and less of their free time at home. Busy, busy teenagers with better things to do.

That was what she told herself, selfishly, though she knew they'd never neglect her. (Knowingly, at least.) As a result, Kara threw herself into her relationship with Alice and her budding friendship with "the Jerry-s", as they jokingly referred to themselves.

Which embarrassed Kara no end, considering her own confusion was the origin of the joke.

When the three had moved with their father to the farm nearby, Kara had met Jerome in the woods by chance. They had hit it off and had a wonderful time. Later, she had run into Jared, and, thinking it was the same boy, called him by "Jerry," an affectionate nickname she'd dubbed the original with--the second was slightly bemused but did nothing to free her from her erroneous belief that she was speaking to the one she knew. The next day, the boys sent out the third--Jeremy--in the hopes that they could continue the charade. Naturally, it worked.

Only when Rose, Alice and Kara went to drop off a welcome pie later that week did the Kara learn the truth. Caught off-guard at the dinner table, she saw all three, and astonished, exclaimed "There are multiple Jerry-s?"

They found this hilarious, and, deciding that the nickname still worked equally well with each of their names, continued to refer to the others as "Jerry" as well as themselves.

Generally, Kara found this joke to be moderately funny, if a bit stale. (It was a bit frustrating still not to be able to tell them apart, and they certainly weren't making it any easier on her!)

This morning, the Jerry-s were very excited to be getting ready for a trip downtown. Since Rose would be their babysitter for the day--Alice was at camp all week, and she wanted to get out of the house--the boys had decided that Kara should accompany them.

Unfortunately, they forgot to ask Kara beforehand.

"C'mon, please?" one begged. "Rose already bought your bus ticket and everything, be a sport!"

"It'll be so much fun," another added.

"We're going to a museum!" the third announced, waving the ticket under her nose. "You'll love it."

"I don't want to go anywhere today," Kara protested. "I have. . . things to do!"

Jerry snorted. "Yeah, like lie in bed and read."

"She's got a hot date with Jane Austen, she's too good for us country folk!" The other Jerry adopted a fake southern accent. Kara cringed.

"Rose just gave me this, you guys," she begged. "I need learn what happened! Henry Crawford just seduced Mrs. Rushworth--after courting Fanny Price for months! It's a scandal!"

"What's scandalous is that you'd rather read than spend time with your friends. Come on the trip with us and we'll buy you lunch."

She considered it.

"You can read on the bus," he added.

"Oh, all right."

Kara settled down into the seat comfortably next to Rose, plugging in her earbuds and opening her book. The Jerry-s bounced around, jittery and ecstatic on their first day trip to the Big City of Detroit, as they called it.

She closed her eyes and let her worries drift away on a cotton-candy cloud of harmonies.

When the moon fell in love with the sun
All was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night

Connor slowly sat up in his seat, the quiet music gently waking him from his slight slumber. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he glanced around the bus.

Noise. Chaos. A couple of people were listening to their own personal musical players, but his eyes swept over them in favor of the trio of kids--probably about twelve or thirteen years old--making a racket.

He decided to sit and listen quietly. His stop was coming soon anyways.

When the sun found the moon
She was drinking tea in the garden
Under the green umbrella tree in the middle of summer

When the moon found the sun
He looked like he was barely hanging on
But her eyes
Saved his life
In the middle of summer

Kara quietly turned a page, trying to ignore the slight prickling in her ear and the dread pooling at the bottom of her stomach.

She felt him, somehow. She could tell.

In the middle of summer
All was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night!
Summer
All was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night!
Summer

Golden when the day met the night.

Connor was oblivious to his soulmate's stress from about four rows away.

So he said, would it be all right
If we just sat and talked for a little while
If in exchange for your time, I give you this smile?

Without knowing how, Kara knew that fate was trying to push them together. . . again.

So she said, that's okay
As long as you can make a promise not to break
My little heart and leave me all alone
In the summer

Connor tapped his fingers on the sideboard, staring out the window idly. His soulmate loved to play this, and once he'd gotten used to the singer's voice, he decided he quite liked the classic rock feel of it. This was his favorite part of the song.

Well he was just hanging around
Then he fell in love and he didn't know how
But he couldn't get out
Just hanging around
Then he fell in love!

Desperately, she pulled the hood of her jacket up over her head, not daring to glance around. She didn't want to know.

Would he actually love me?

Does he actually love me?

She didn't want to know.

In the middle of summer
All was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night!

As the bus slowed to a stop, Connor heaved his luggage bag from the overhead rack and slipped to the front of the bus amidst the crowd.

He thought he caught a flash of familiar--familiar??--blue eyes in the crowd, but before he could realize what the sudden pain in his ears meant, he'd been shuffled onto the pavement.

"Hey, wait--"

The bus's doors slid shut, the gray mechanical monster sliding away with her in its belly in a puff of smoggy exhaust.

Summer.

. . . Why did she do that?

Chapter Text

Kara usually liked the Jerry jokes. She truly did.

This particular morning, however, she was having a terrible time, and it was nothing but a nuisance. Everything seemed to be going wrong--an essay due hadn't been completed on time. She spilled the milk bringing it in. She tripped and tore her favorite skirt. And, to top it all off, Alice (normally an angel among angels!) was in a bad mood and had spoken crossly to her when Kara succumbed to sarcasm as a coping mechanism.

In tears, she had fled to her solace--the loft.

The loft of the barn, strewn with a good two feet of loose hay, wouldn't be the first place somebody would look for her. Kara had made it her safe spot to go and cry--it was far enough away from the house, and close enough to hear the meal bell clanging. A handmade quilt tossed upon the pile in the corner, a few old standby books in a box to protect from the weather (and animals), and her IPod and Kara was ready for an hour-long off-again, on-again crying session. With her earbuds in, she blasted her comfort music--soothing, poetic Indie garbage--for once unheeding the boy on the other end who would doubtless hear.

A voice from below startled her. "Hey, Kara?"

"Go away," she called, turning over on her side and sniffling. "I'm not ready to do people right now."

"It's Jerry."

"I know, I assumed so!" she barked, turning up the volume and pulling the quilt over her head.

Connor sat up. The music playing in his ears wasn't played often, but he knew what it meant. He could always tell, somehow.

She was sad.

Now, how he could tell this, Connor couldn't say. Perhaps, along with the melody, a faint bit of emotion came along, if it was strong enough?

Nevermind how he knew, he knew. She was sad; this was her sad song.

He dropped the plate he was holding on the table and thundered up the stairs.

"Shaddup, Connor!" came the inevitable shout from Dad's bedroom, but Connor was too wrapped up in his present situation to care. He grabbed the guitar from under his bed and flopped down, plucking a few strings.

He'd been waiting for the right moment to do this, and it felt right now.

Connor cleared his throat, breathed deeply, and began to strum.

Through Kara's ears--tentatively at first, and slowly confident--trickled a new song, one she'd never heard before.

A voice she'd never heard before.

A male voice.

Him.

She turned her music off and listened.

When he was finished, he slowly set the guitar aside, waiting for some kind of response on her end. He held his breath.

There was silence.

Connor bit his lip and began to raise himself from the bed when into his mind blasted--

Say hey, I've been 'round again
But I'll be back from around the way
It seems like everywhere I go
The more I see the less I know

He laughed out loud, surprised at the sudden tears leaping to his eyes.

But I know
One thing
That I love you.

Chapter Text

The faint music was playing in her ears as it was playing in her head, and that could only mean one thing.

Her soulmate happened to be listening to the same song that was playing softly over the speakers at this dance. . .

. . . Or he was here.

Kara turned in place, and turned again. The crowds pressing into her from all sides did nothing to help the sense of foreboding and terror rising in her gut. She was lost in a sea of people, the music her only solace. The overwhelming pressure in her ears told her that tonight was the night.

She was finally going to meet him. No running this time; no escaping.

Fate was not to be denied.

What if he didn't like her, after all?

A new song began, and as it did, she continued hearing double. It was here; he was here. And it would continue to pulse heavily, almost painfully, until the second connection--their meeting--was made.

I've got a hunger, twisting my stomach into knots. . .

Connor was frantic. She was here, she was so close! He had to find her, if it was the last thing he did.

Without thinking twice, he dashed for the DJ's station on the stage, a half-baked plan formulating in his mind. Launching himself over a table and up onto the stage, he hastily glanced around the room again, hoping she would see him.

That my tongue has tied off. . .

The slow song's beat picked up slightly as a commotion on the other side of the room made her snap her head towards the sound.

If she knew her soulmate's personality by now at all. . .

Amid the confusion, she froze. Half of her wanted to rush forward, to find him, to finally meet him, while the other half felt like it had been doused in ice water.

She didn't move.

My brain's repeating, if you've an impulse, let it out!

He scanned the room eagerly. A few outliers were staring at him, but for the most part, the party was still in full swing. Couples were dancing in the center of the room, arms wrapped around each other in a protective shield that kept the world at bay. Others moved with the spirit of the beat, swaying energetically.

If Connor had any self restraint, he would have stopped right then and there. He would have realized his chances of meeting his soulmate at this party--which has just begun--was quite good, very good, in fact, especially if she was searching for him as well. He would have stepped down from the stage and gone about his mission a bit more casually.

Connor remembered how many times he'd missed this girl before--remembered his suspicion that she was running from him, afraid of meeting him and disappointing him and somehow being less than what he wanted.

Connor grabbed the microphone.

But they never make it past my mouth!

"Attention, everyone!" a male voice boomed from the speakers. Couples broke apart instantly; groups scattered. All of the young adults were staring at him now, at the crazy guy who'd jumped onto the stage and was now addressing the crowd with one hundred percent purpose and zero percent shame.

Kara covered her face in her hands. Next to her, Chloe materialized.

"What's going on?" she mouthed over the music.

Her friend simply shook her head and covered her face more fully.

Ba-ba, this is the sound of settling,

"My soulmate, who I have been looking for for eight years, two months, and four days, is in this room. Will you please step forward?"

Ba-ba, ba-ba. . .

As if by magic, the crowd parted, allowing her a clear path to the stage. Still, she remained standing in place. The Red Sea was opened up before her, but she was not quite trusting enough in the power holding it there to take a step into it.

Her hands shook.

The man standing on the stage had finally caught sight of her.

Our youth is fleeting, old age is just around the bend
And I can't wait to go gray

Connor saw her--he saw her, he knew it was her, and drank in the details. Her hands were folded in front of her tasteful blue gown--she was modest. Her face was cast downwards, partially concealed by her brown hair, tied up in a messy bun--she was shy, sweet and unassuming.

She glanced up and he caught sight of her eyes--

She was beautiful.

Connor suddenly found it difficult to take a breath. Awash in heat, his face was most likely covered in a deep pink blush.

They simply looked at each other, as the rest of the world fell away.

And I'll sit and wonder of every love that could have been
If I'd only thought of something charming to say

As his eyes met hers, she felt--felt--the overwhelming joy that radiated off of him in waves, so obvious she couldn't understand why he felt no embarrassment at letting it show. He seemed to straighten up, bringing his hands up to adjust his tie nervously, and she knew that he knew who she was.

She also knew--with sudden, absolute certainty--that he was giving her a chance to walk away.

Ba-ba, this is the sound of settling
Ba-ba, ba-ba

All she needed to do was turn and leave. She could leave fate behind, the fate that had been chasing her relentlessly for years. The fate that wouldn't shut up, the music that had been nothing but a curse to her!

. . . Right?

Ba-ba, this is the sound of settling

With the final lines of the song, she came to a sudden decision.

No more.

I've got a hunger, twisting my stomach into knots.

Kara took a step forward.

Chapter Text

"So, I didn't think you'd be this attractive," he was saying teasingly.

"Oh, I bet you didn't."

Walking out on the paths behind the art building was a delightful way to pass the time. The campus was quiet--everyone was at the dance or in their dorm room, asleep or binge-watching Netflix. They had slipped away from the party and were having a stroll to "get to know each other better", which had turned, naturally, into flirtatious banter and snarky commentary on the others' accessories.

Connor had insulted her cheap thrift store handbag.

Kara had responded by chucking it into the woods.

So the date was going great.

"No, I'm serious!" he continued, smiling. "I wasn't sure what you were going to look like, but I didn't expect. . . this."

Nervously, she clasped her hands tightly in front of her. "'This'?"

"Well, you! You're beautiful!" Connor was oblivious to the sudden self-consciousness he'd created in his companion. "Your eyes. . . I mean, the rest of you is gorgeous, but your eyes are just. . . magnificent. I mean, have you seen them?"

Tears were springing to those magnificent eyes, but Kara wiped them away and attempted to sound casual.

"That's the thing about eyes," she laughed weakly. "They can see anything, take in everything--but they can't see themselves."

"Well that's what mirrors are fo--wait, was that something else?"

"Hm?" She was recovering.

Connor fell in step beside her.

"Is that that thing, you know, when someone says one thing but they mean another thing entirely?" he asked conversationally. "I'm always bad at picking up on those, you've gotta treat me like I'm a six-year-old."

"Are you saying I'm wrong?" Kara tilted her head.

"Oh, come on. What are you saying?" Realization dawned on his face, right before his eyebrows knitted. "Hey, wait. You don't think you're pretty?"

"Well, I mean--" she floundered.

"You are."

She stopped walking. So did he.

Around them, crickets chirped. A creek nearby gurgled and rushed, and there was a croak of a distant frog, but the couples' ears were only for one another.

"You don't think you're pretty." Connor turned and paced the other way a few steps. Stopped. Huffed in frustration. Walked back. "Do you?"

"No, not really," she admitted quietly.

Kara's breath hitched as he unexpectedly leaned in close to her, studying her face carefully.

"Usually, attractiveness is subjective," he announced. "It's a matter of an individual's tastes, and depends upon what type of hair they like, or skin color, or body type. Personality. Emotional connections. That sort of thing."

She found her mouth going dry as his intense eyes bored into hers.

"But believe me when I say, Kara Chapman, that your beauty is an objective fact. You are wonderful on the inside and out, as I have years of experience knowing, and put thoughts of others before thoughts of your own well-being." Pleading crept into his tone, and he visibly fought to keep it in check. "You are kind and smart and funny and sarcastic and wonderful and God, are your eyes pretty, Kara, please can I kiss you? I've waited so long, I don't think I can stand another minute."

Kara wetted her lips and squinted suspiciously at him, desperately looking for an ounce of anything in his face that read insincerity.

There was none.

"Sure, okay," she found herself saying.

He dove in without another moment's hesitation, enthusiastically pressing his lips on hers in a completely unprofessional--but no less pleasant for it--manner, clasping her small hands in his rough ones as if desperate for contact. She closed her eyes and leaned forwards, giving in completely to the quiet kiss in the chilly night air with the trees surrounding them and the lights and sounds of the campus a far-off distraction.

She found, after a life of running, she enjoyed the silence of standing still.