Catfish and the Bottlemen Imagines

A Touch of Pace 1.2 - Van

My head spun as we trudged across the fields in the moonlight. What was I doing? Was this a good idea? Van certainly had ideas in his head, that I could tell. And something about him kept fanning that wild flame inside me. 

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, still unsure of how I wanted all this to turn out. 

"So," Van said, his voice light. "Tell me your favorite Catfish song."

"I only get one?" He grinned and looked at the grass. For all his bravado he was a humble guy underneath, I thought. "I should get two, because I'm Scottish, aye? I gotta have Glasgow."

He laughed heartily. "Fair point. So. Glasgow, and...?"

"I suppose you're wanting me to pull out some deep cut. But for me it's Cocoon."

His smile widened. "Like a good fuck-off song then, yeah?"

"To a point," I agreed. I gazed up at the stars as I walked.

"And the dynamics," I continued. "The intimacy of the verses, I love. You've got those little moments of two people together, bringing you right into the space between them. Then the big fuck-off chorus. Put them together and it's magic." I paused, then barreled on. "You're an amazing songwriter, Van."

Van's eyes were on me as he walked, but he seemed unsure of what to do with so much praise. He took in a breath.

"Thank you," he said simply. "Coming from you, that's a huge compliment. Your songs inspire me, you know."

I gave him a broad smile. "Let's have it then. Your favorite song of mine."

He laughed out loud. "Well, you know I practically stole the chorus from Out in the Open, right? For Business?"

I laughed. "Yeah, I spotted that too. Well done, mate."

"Thanks for not suing us," he grinned. "Song's class. I love your voice on it too, all soft on the verse, raspy on the chorus..."

He trailed off, rubbing a hand on the back of his head, looking down. "I could listen to your voice all day, if I'm honest."

That heat in my midsection was coming too often now. I looked away, but couldn't hide my smile. 

We had reached the hotel, and true to form, Van jumped ahead to open the door. We carried on trading song recommendations in the elevator. I was still laughing at his attempt at singing one of mine - that was far too high for him - when we reached my room.

I turned to face him in the quiet corridor. Dammit, those eyes. They were simply mesmerizing, gazing at me now, filled with a silent question.

He reached out and slipped his hand in mine, then placed a gentle kiss on my knuckles.

--

The whole walk back my head raced. I kept the conversation light, but inside I was combusting. Was I reading her signals wrong? Was she even sending signals at all? She'd let me walk her back and said she felt lucky to be with me...but who the fuck knew. 

I had to take one more chance. Outside her door, she fumbled for her room key, then turned to face me. I fancied that little spark behind her eyes grew brighter when she looked at me.

Emboldened, I took her hand and brought it briefly to my lips. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment. I moved a step closer, watching, waiting to take her cue.

"Van, I'm just gonna be honest," she said with a sigh. "I like you. I really do. And I want to invite you in. But I --"

"But you think I'm just a kid, yeah?" My voice came out more petulant than I intended.