If She Gives You Her Heart Don't You Break It || Kate & Leo Oneshots

The Script.

The 11th street cafe exuded warmth on that chilly afternoon, its dim lights casting a soft glow on Leo and me as we nestled in a quiet corner, seeking refuge from the biting cold. Bundled up in thick coats and scarves, we clutched steaming mugs, our hands seeking solace in the embrace of hot coffee. I beamed at him. It had been four years since I had last seen him. He was still gorgeous, maybe with one or two more wrinkles by the side of his eyes, his face was definitely more tanned, but the sparkle in his eyes had never waned.

I gently slid a script across the worn wooden table, my eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Leo, I love it. You should play Frank," I whispered, a mixture of excitement and nervousness colouring my words. Leo's gaze met mine, scepticism etched across his face like a faint watermark.
He shook his head. “But—”
"It won't be like Titanic, Leo. Trust me," I implored, my voice a tender plea. "I convinced Sam to do it, and he thought it would be like American Beauty. But it’s not."
Leo's eyes flitted around the cosy café, ensuring our conversation remained our own, shielded from prying eyes and curious ears. “What part of it did he think would be like American Beauty?”
“The suburbia.”
“Suburbia?”
“Yep. But this is in the 1950’s”
“Oh right.” He sighed. “Fine, give it here.”
“Yay!”
He laughed as I slid it further over to him, and I watched carefully as he traced his index finger over the font and opened to the first page. The air filled with the rich scent of coffee and the sweet allure of pastries. I sat back, watching his face crinkle and burst into smiles. I could almost picture which lines he was reading from his reaction. It was amusing, to say the least. Over the next hour, surrounded by the comforting ambiance, and the quiet music, the pages left to read became fewer, and as the last page turned, he closed the script, his emotions concealed behind an unreadable expression. A moment of suspense hung in the air, and then, leaning forward, Leo's eyes twinkled with a warmth that mirrored the café's inviting glow. His hand reached for mine, and in that simple touch, a silent understanding blossomed.

"So?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, searching his eyes for a sign. Leo met my gaze, the twinkle evolving into a genuine sparkle. "I'm in," he declared, his smile breaking through any lingering doubts. A flood of relief washed over me, and I couldn't help but reciprocate his infectious grin. I moved over to his seat and hugged him tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Careful,” he warned, holding me at arm's length but struggling to hold back a toothy grin. “The pap could be here.”
“Right.” I moved back to my seat and smiled as I tucked the script back away into my bag. “Sorry.”
“No, don't be.”

As we basked in the warmth of our newfound collaboration, the café became an intimate backdrop to a conversation that transcended the professional realm. Cakes and pastries adorned our table, serving as sweet companions to the tales we wove and the dreams we shared. The world outside disappeared, leaving only the two of us, lost in a moment suspended in time. Leo's gaze held mine with an intensity that mirrored the emotion swirling within me.

“How do you feel?”
"I'm excited, Kate," Leo confessed, his voice a gentle melody. "There's something about this script that feels different. It's not just a role; it's a story waiting to be told, and I want to be a part of it with you. We ought to go to a bookshop now so I can read the book. Who is it by again?”
I let out a soft laugh, and gathered the crockery into the centre of the table. “Richard Yates.”
“That’s right.”

His words hung in the air, resonating with a sincerity that touched my heart. The twinkle in his eyes spoke of shared dreams and the unspoken promise to bring this narrative to life. I beamed at him, standing up.
“Come on then. We could go to the strand.”
“Is that a book shop?”
“Yes.”
“Alrighty.”

Our hands found each other naturally, fingers entwining like the plotlines we were about to explore. Leo's touch was a comforting embrace as we walked, a silent affirmation of the bond we were forging. In that moment, the bustling city faded into the background. All that remained was us—the dreamers, the storytellers, and kindred spirits.

Soon, we arrived at the book shop. It smelled of dust, and old books, and as we entered, a little bell rang above the door. The shelves seemed to stretch infinitely, housing countless stories waiting to be discovered. As we roamed through the narrow aisles, our eyes scanning the spines of books with curiosity, we finally reached the section with authors whose last names started with X, Y, and Z. I looked up, scanning the shelves. Yankevich, Leo, Yardley, Jane, Yates, Frances, Yates, Richard.

I craned my neck, attempting to find a way to reach it, but it was just out of arm’s length.
"Need a hand?" Leo asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

I grinned, realising the situation, "Please."

Without hesitation, Leo scooped me up, his strong arms effortlessly lifting me toward the book.
“Ah!” I squealed, kicking my legs, getting used to the feeling of his arms around my waist again. I settled into the feeling and reached out to grab it. My fingers brushed against the spine, but it remained just out of reach. "A little higher," I urged, determined to secure our treasure. Leo complied, lifting me a bit more, and with a triumphant laugh, I managed to snag it.
“Aha!” I playfully swatted Leo's arm with my free hand. "Alright, darling, put me down," I teased, still caught in a fit of laughter. “I’m a married woman!”

“Okay okay, I’m sorry!” Leo complied, gently lowering me to the ground. As my feet touched the floor, I couldn't help but playfully roll my eyes at him. "You're lucky I didn't hit my head on the ceiling. I might have had to sue for damages.” I joked, the book now safely in my possession. “Anyways, consider this a gift from me.” I flicked the pages in his face and ran to the till.
“What, no! I Have adult money now.”
“So do I. It’s only a couple of pounds— dollars. It’s the least I can do.”
“Fine.”

Leo chuckled, taking my hand again. “Thanks, Katie.”

I nodded, still smiling.
As we left the bookstore, the book in hand, the camaraderie between us felt stronger, and the anticipation for our upcoming project was fueled not just by the words on the pages but by the shared moments that brought those words to life.
"We're embarking on something special, Leo," I remarked, my eyes reflecting the sentiment. "This isn't just another film script. It’s a wildly different story from anything we’ve done before. I’m so happy you’ve agreed to do it, I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else. And Sam…” I puffed the air out my cheeks and raised my eyebrows. “He’s gonna be so happy. And Mia and Joe! You’ll get to see them again!”

Leo's smile deepened, mirroring my sentiments. "I'm grateful too, Kate. This feels right, and I can't wait to see where it takes us. I can’t wait to see the kids again."

As the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting a golden hue over the city, we returned to his car, and drove around for a while, strains of the dream academy flowing through the speakers. The outside world might have been bustling with noise and obligations, but within the walls of our cosy haven, time seemed to slow down. The city lights sparkled like distant stars, and as we ventured into the night, I couldn't help but feel that our collaboration wasn't just about making a film—it was about creating a story that resonated with the warmth, emotion, and love we had discovered in New York.