Priorities

Kip wasn't one to take people's words lightly. He was respectful and willing to accept any lifestyle that might be different from his own. It was this gentle acceptance of differences that made him so much different from most of the politicians and social reformists of the day. He truly tried to escape bias, including towards the dark wizards he often had to help take out of commission to provide a safer environment for the world. And not having bias often meant accepting people for who they were and allowing them to do as they pleased.

The problem was, Katarina was not doing as she pleased. He had never met someone so restrained. Even on the rare occasions that she revealed more beyond the prim mask of polite conversation and tailored smiles, Kip had the nagging suspicion that her behavior had been so carefully curated that she never allowed herself to just 'be' as she wanted, as she truly wanted. The easy route wasn't necessarily the one that most fulfilled someone.

And he cared too much about her to let her live a lie.

"I didn't want to do politics," he said. "And, I mean, technically I haven't. But you've heard the plan. Get into the Ministry, make the country better, infect the world with those positive changes." He rocked on his heels. "But it was a hobby. Following the latest news, making connections, drafting essays on subjects. And then I realized that I owed too much to leave it as just a hobby. I owed the people I could affect and help. I owed my friends who believed so much in me. And I owed it to myself to do something that would make me happy, that would make me feel like my life was worthwhile."

He had probably crossed a line. But he couldn't go a moment longer without inviting Katarina to live her life in a way that would make her smile reach her eyes. He turned to look at her. "Everyone deserves the chance to make themselves happy."

Katarina's crossed arms began to wrap more tightly around her chest, tugging her coat closer and closer as Kip continued to speak. His speech had been an unexpected punch in the middle of their quiet afternoon and she found her eyes fluttering protectively back towards the safety of the paintings. She hadn't expected that - how could she have? His story was so succinct and deliberate it felt like an outpouring of formally restrained advice.

Suddenly, Katarina no longer felt like a shadow in the room during the Pigeon's debates. She had always been uncomfortably aware of the attention that Kip and Kenna placed on her but somehow she had never really considered that interest went beyond her paintings. But this, while technically regarding her artistic interests, was something completely different. No one, much less someone who was practically a stranger, had ever made recommendations for her happiness before.

This was the first time Katarina had felt genuinely uncomfortable with Kipling Parsons. Knowing that on some level he had studied her, observed parts of her that she herself barely touched, made Katarina feel as if she was being stripped bare. It took an unexpected feat of strength for her to bring her eyes back upwards to lock with Kip's again.

"I am happy" she lied to herself.

The statement added layers, unconsciously putting up walls to dissuade the man before her from looking any further. His curious eyes, the ones she found so beautiful, the ones she had discreetly painted one evening during a particularly passionate drunken monologue, those eyes were suddenly so much more dangerous when their inquiry turned on her.

Honestly, this felt strange for him.

He felt like he might have been more comfortable if he was challenging her on foreign policy, or interpretation of the fallout after the goblin wars, or whether or not Kenna noticed how desperate for her attention Remy was. Something along the vein of their usual topics, of their known territory. Kip was a wishful politician, a natural teacher, an accidental philosopher, a devoted friend. He was not a life coach, nor a therapist, and it had never struck him to pursue such a life. He had no ambitions to change an individual, so focused he was on changing the world.

And he did not know why he suddenly felt so passionate about challenging Katarina. Until now, he had been gentle with her. He would challenge her, of course, but always gave her a chance to catch her breath. She was young, of course, and she didn't act as though she was accustomed to mattering. So he was patient, and gentle, and he didn't push.

But when had she ever been pushed. Something told him Katarina Rookwood had been wholly overlooked too many times, and he wanted to know why she was content to be forgotten, when it was so evident that she sparkled. Kenna had taken to Katarina so quickly, it was terrifying. Kenna was a loving person, of course, and it had begun for very vapid reasons. But there was a reason Kenna spent her nights with her brother and his best friends. She didn't find people naturally that she could love. But she loved Kat. And Remy was entertained by Kat to no end. Rory loved her paintings. And Yuri had confessed that Kat was the best of them all.

Why didn't she see a sliver of that?

She looked back up at him and spoke, her voice strangely hollow despite the raise of pitch and inflection. He blinked, and the slightest of frowns twitched onto his face. He had challenged her and she hadn't met him - not really. She had opposed his words, but she wasn't letting his meaning sink in.

Maybe she did like her life this way.

That was a bit disappointing.

Kip stared at her, that disappointment registering just a little bit, before he gave her a polite grimace. "Glad to hear it." He cleared his throat, his eyes wandering to the next painting. Another polite smile and he shifted towards the next exhibit, finding that, for once, it was him that needed a chance to find relief.