Henriad (History Plays, Book 5)

7: and plead his love-suit to her gentle heart

Kate

I've done a reasonably low number of stupid things in my lifetime. So I suppose I was due up.
Sitting alone in a coffee shop at ten o'clock at night to meet a strange man is honestly a weird way for me to want to die, yet here I am.
I went home and changed after the game, so I'm wearing tight jeans, a black v-neck tank top, and a leather jacket. Comfortably casual enough. My hair is damp, but tied back in a high pony-tail. I order a green tea and just wait quietly. I don't even know if he saw it. This is so stupid.
Yet he trips in, looking like he doesn't remember how to walk not in skates. He's wearing just an UnderArmor sweatsuit and trainers, all black, his dark hair hangs in deep golden brown curls dripping on his mirrored glasses. I'm surprised after seeing him without them through the whole game. For a moment, when he steps in he does look like a college student out on a night run, then he turns and the skeletally destroyed half of his face is revealed and he looks all together more sinister.
I stand up when I see him, as if that's appropriate. Whatever.
"Kate," he lets the name melt on his tongue like butter, "I can't say I like you more without a stick in your hand."
"Do you want anything?" I ask, dumbly.
"I have what I want," he moves to sit across from me, lips flickering in a smile though he does not dare smile fully.
"Congratulations, you won, against the odds," I say, smiling a little, "I—did not expect that."
"I aim to surprise," he says, leaning back in the chair that barley fits him. His legs are only just tucked under the table and nearly knock mine. Now that he's closer I see his skin is still slick from the shower and possibly sweat, and his cheeks are still flushed. I hate how much I like seeing him like this. Raw, real, and not the composed arrogant prince he likes to portray.
"Tired?" I ask.
"More than a little. But not tired enough not to come, how very clandestine. How did you know I couldn't resist some intrigue?"
"Maybe you're not as hard to read as you suppose," I say.
"Maybe we are of the same mind," he says, as the waitress comes up. He asks for a water bottle, they dither about the brand until she identifies one he likes that she carries.
"You're particular about your water?" I ask.
"I'm particular about everything, that's why I'm here," he says, smiling.
"I thought it was because I asked you to come," I say.
"Really? I thought it was because I find you interesting," he says, now unable to press the smile off his practiced face.
"I get the feeling you say this a lot," I say.
"Not remotely."
"But you do get what you want a lot?"
"Well, yes, I like it that way," he says.
"Many girls fall for the dashing hero in matching sweatsuit and Ray Bans?" I ask, almost smiling myself.
"For your information, this is not a good me-day. Also, I am not a charmer, Kate. I'm not well versed in wooing women. I am not even what would pass for handsome. I blame my father he was thinking of fighting when he got me and so I have the look and blood of soldier in me, and none of my mother's gentleness," he says, shrugging, a little, and gesturing to the scars on his face, "The best I can offer is that thanks to this I shall never look worse than I presently do, in old age I can only look better or much the same, so you've already met me at my worst I have no fair looks to fade with time or to please other women with for nothing in my countenance is remotely pleasing or fair."
"You're like somebody who wasn't meant to exist," I laugh.
"I have to know what that means."
"I mean I thought God kept angels up in heaven to make those speeches for him," I say.
"I'm no angel, Kate," he says, looking at his hands which he has clasped on the table.
"I like you better without the glasses."
"Shame the things we must learn to live without," he says, coolly.
"If they're for light how come you don't wear them on the ice?" I ask.
"They're not for light. I just want them."
"Will you take them off for me?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to. Why? Do you suppose I'm lying because you can't look into my eyes?" He asks, resting a chin on his hand.
"I think you have pretty eyes," I say, as the waitress brings his water bottle.
"That's your option; they stay behind glasses."
"You wear those to bed?"
"We did establish I don't sleep as a rule," he says, "Nor do you apparently?"
"Not much," I say, sipping my tea, "Can you answer me one thing?"
"I will answer it— may or may not be honest, depends on the question."
"Don't answer if it isn't honest, just stare at me," I direct.
He nods, a smile playing on his thin lips.
"What is it you want? Really want?" I ask.
"To kiss you, Kate."
I burst out laughing.
"Well that was not the desired reaction cool, cool—"
"I am not kissing you while we are rival captains," I say, staying him with a hand as he moves to leave.
"Oh right, that," he says, like he'd forgotten, "Inconvenient and it's a shame because I'd like to kiss you."
"Does that line work well for you?
"I wouldn't know; it's original to you Kate, but I am a fan of kissing and I'd appreciate your knowledge on the subject," he says.
"Oh, I'm sure you've been properly taught," I say, narrowing my eyes in mock judgement.
"Not by a pretty girl," he says, cracking open his water bottle.
"Oh —" I start to realize.
"My principal education was by a very beautiful boy. He was much prettier than you by the way," and he says it so seriously I cannot help but laugh.
"Wait—was?" I stop my laughter though he seems pleased to have caused it.
"He passed a —a couple of years ago. Don't look sorry. I can't stand it. I'll die too someday. Lots of people die it happens it's my option not to like it when it happens to my people, but it still does," he says, shrugging a bit.
"I'm sorry, that sounds stupid but—"
He shrugs again, "I wouldn't trade having him for all the heartache in the world. I'll miss him every day of the rest of my life if that's the cost of the time I had. It's the cost of loving someone, the readiness to bear the pain of losing them."
"That's true—if melancholy," I say.
He shrugs, "What about you? Any previous education or relevant experiences?"
"Waving a stick at them on the ice is not a great way to attract boys," I say.
"I truly don't see why," he says, genuinely confused.
"Of course you like that."
"Do you want me not to?"
"No, go ahead, no I'm not very popular, no long term boyfriends," I say.
He nods.
"But seriously, what do you want?" I ask.
"To kiss you. It was serious."
"I mean in life, I think you know that."
"I do and I did answer. I'm a simple man, Kate. I don't—I haven't had a lot to wish for in this world, nothing tangible anyway. And sometimes we meet people who we see ourselves in, who make us remember how it feels to be whole, who fills in the seams of the cracks in our broken hearts. And you look at them and think that you could stay with way forever if only the world would stop spinning. Even if then we'd be launched out space we'd have kept that one singular moment. I pretend to have all the answers and I absolutely love knowing how everything works and why people matter to us, or why they need to come into our lives. But as it happens not everything can be solved with a neat equation. And everyday I live I think I find more out in the world that I don't know.
"But I do know this, that eternity could start right now if I got to spend it with you. Not because you're the most perfect girl in the world, or the only person I've ever felt this way for. I've loved before, I've lost those I loved. I've had my heart shattered to a million pieces till I didn't think I'd find them all again. But I do know you're beautiful to me. And I'd love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night listening to the sound of your voice even if it's only for tonight. If I've learned anything it's that we can't chain people or harness them, they drift through our lives and we can only hope the ones we love get caught in our orbit. But sometimes they don't. Shooting stars burn up, but they're no less beautiful than Venus. So be my Venus, Kate, or be my shooting star, but be mine. And I will gladly be yours if you'll have me."

Harry

"What are you? If I'm your Venus?" She asks, a smile on her pink lips. She has sparkling lip gloss on it. A heart shaped necklace on her damp skin.
"Oh, I'm the sun, Kate. I think I'm the center of everything, but I'm really just a speck in the universe," I say, twisting my water bottle between my hands.
"I'm not kissing you tonight," she says, though she smiles mischievously.
"Really? That's inconvenient, but all right," I say, shrugging, "Because of the games? I wouldn't think I'd love you if you weren't stubborn enough to go on and try to slaughter me."
"Because I don't want to burn up tonight," she says, standing up, "And orbits take time."
"I don't like time, it doesn't last near as long as it's supposed to," I say, getting my wallet out.
"I'll buy your water," she pats my shoulder. Her fingernails are painted yellow, why did I not notice that until now? I try to take a breath and catch some scent from her skin but she smells still rough of sweat from the game.
I wait until she leaves then I painfully get up and limp back to the hotel.
Rey mumbles something when I come back and I drop into bed, forgetting my glasses which is a painful error considering I flop down face first. I take them off then work my way under the covers.
I ask myself the question over and over what I am doing. But I can't come up with a better answer than learning how to live.