Chapter 48: Cinema, Chaos & Mister Cinepedia

Sebastian stood in front of the theater like a man entering a foreign country without a passport.

His gaze swept the flashing posters, the crowds of teenagers, the oversized drink cups, and the inexplicably loud arcade noises coming from the lobby.

Katherine, beside him, was already buzzing with delight. She looked like she belonged here — radiant, relaxed, absolutely in her element.

He, on the other hand, felt… vaguely attacked by the fluorescent lighting.

“I haven’t been in a cinema in ages,” he muttered under his breath, eyeing a small child licking a nacho.

Katherine grinned. “You must have come as a kid, at least?”

Sebastian nodded once, solemn. “Exactly. Ages ago.”

Katherine cackled — loudly — right as the glass doors swung open and they stepped inside. Several people turned to look. She didn’t care.

Sebastian did. Just a little.

She marched straight to the ticket counter, already scanning the movie titles above the cashier. He followed, warily.

“All right,” she said, hands on hips. “Let’s pick.”

“What about The Deep Dark?” he offered, pointing to a brooding poster. “That director’s last film premiered in Venice. It’s supposedly a meditation on grief through nonlinear narrative—”

“Pass,” Katherine said immediately. “I don’t do grief meditations on Sundays.”

“Fine,” he said, adjusting his cuff like this was a business meeting. “Then Symmetry of Silence. Excellent cinematographer. The lead actor just won an award in Berlin.”

Katherine slowly turned her head and stared at him.

“I thought you hadn’t been to a cinema in forever?”

“I haven’t,” Sebastian replied coolly. “You don’t have to go to know things about directors.”

Katherine snorted. “Okay, Mister Cinepedia.”

Sebastian blinked. “What did you just call me?”

“Mister Cinepedia,” she said with a satisfied smile. “You know — like cinema and Wikipedia had a smug, well-dressed baby.”

He raised one brow in that impossibly subtle way of his.

“It’s a pun,” Katherine added. “A literary device? Wordplay? You do know what those are, right?”

“I’m aware,” Sebastian said dryly. “Just… don’t call me that.”

Katherine tilted her head, teasing.

“What, not even here?”

“Especially not here. In public.”

She leaned closer and grinned up at him, conspiratorial.

“No promises.”

---

Katherine slapped two tickets down on the counter with the satisfaction of someone signing a very unserious contract.

Sebastian leaned over to glance at the screen… and visibly froze.

Then looked at her.

Then back at the title.

Then back at her.

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did.”

He stared. “I am not watching a film called Zombie Shark Vs. Robot Alligator. I have standards.”

“You are watching it,” she declared triumphantly, already tucking the tickets into her bag. “And you’ll be eating popcorn and drinking Coke with ice.”

Sebastian visibly paled. “That’s not… the healthiest combination.”

“That’s because it’s not food, darling. It’s snacks.”

She was grinning again, positively unhinged with joy.

He opened his mouth — probably to present a case involving nutrition, logic, and human dignity — but never got the chance.

Because Katherine had already grabbed his wrist.

“Come on, we’re going to miss the trailers!”

Her grip was firm, purposeful, and completely irresistible. Sebastian had to lengthen his stride just to keep up.

“Katherine—”

“If you don’t move your very expensive shoes in the next five seconds,” she warned over her shoulder, “I’m leaving you here. For real this time.”

“Blackmail, Miss Brown?”

“Oh, you bet.”

Before she could say another word, Sebastian swept her off the ground.

Katherine let out a surprised squeal as his arms locked beneath her knees and back, lifting her like she weighed nothing at all.

“Where to?” he asked, utterly deadpan. “Give me your coordinates.”

Katherine was laughing so hard she could barely speak.

“Popcorn first,” she gasped, “then Theater Three!”

He turned, already marching across the lobby.

“Yes, Captain.”

She buried her face in his shoulder, still shaking with laughter, as they passed the bewildered stares of strangers and the confused hum of the ticket clerk.

And Sebastian?

He couldn’t stop smiling.

---

The scent of buttered popcorn hit them like a wall the second they stepped into the concession area. Katherine inhaled deeply, eyes practically sparkling.

“This,” she said reverently, “is the holy grail.”

Sebastian looked vaguely alarmed by the sheer number of toppings, sizes, and combo options displayed above them. “Why are there sixteen types of popcorn?”

“Because freedom,” Katherine declared. “Okay, I want extra butter with caramel drizzle.”

Sebastian frowned. “That’s… two conflicting flavor profiles.”

“You’re a conflicting flavor profile,” she snapped back, grinning. “What are you getting? Plain?”

He hesitated. “Truffle sea salt.”

She squinted at him.

“You know exactly what you want.”

“Of course I do,” he said, matter-of-fact. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “Sebastian.”

“Yes?”

“When exactly was the last time you were in a movie theater?”

There was a pause.

Then he sighed, defeated. “Last year. Film festival week. San Sebastián. But it was… an art house theater. No popcorn.”

Katherine let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a shriek, immediately slapping both hands over her mouth.

“Oh my god,” she tried to say, but it came out as muffled, choking laughter.

Sebastian, already knowing what was coming, reached out just in time to slap a hand over her mouth. “Don’t. Don’t you dare.”

But it was too late. She was already snorting into his palm, shoulders shaking with barely-suppressed hysteria.

He shook his head. “You’re a walking disaster.”

She finally managed to wriggle free from his hand and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Hmm. I should make that my username. @WalkingDisaster. Catchy, no?”

He groaned. “Please don’t.”

Two minutes later, they emerged victorious from the concession stand — Katherine juggling a bucket of caramel-butter popcorn half the size of her torso, and Sebastian holding his truffle-salt version with deeply skeptical dignity, plus two comically large cups of Coke sloshing with ice.

They looked completely ridiculous.

And oddly… perfect together.

“Next stop,” Katherine grinned, turning toward the corridor, “Theater Three.”

“Lead the way, Captain Chaos,” Sebastian muttered.

And together — her barefoot in spirit, him one breath away from laughing again — they vanished down the dark hallway toward the glowing neon entrance.

---

Theater Three was already dim when they entered, with neon exit signs glowing softly in the corners and the booming bass of the pre-show trailers vibrating through the floor.

They took their seats — dead center, middle row. Prime viewing position, which, according to Katherine, was “scientifically the best place for maximum chaos absorption.”

Sebastian doubted the science.

But at this point, he doubted everything.

Katherine settled in with a dramatic sigh, pulled her legs up slightly, and cradled her tub of popcorn like it was a newborn. “This is going to be awful,” she whispered with glee.

Sebastian glanced at the screen, which now displayed a man being eaten by a mechanical sea-lizard hybrid in slow motion.

He exhaled. “I already regret this.”

She smiled sweetly and stuffed a fistful of caramel-drizzled popcorn in her mouth. “Too late.”

The movie began.

And it was…

Insanity.

Explosions. Screaming. CGI blood. A shark with a monocle. A gator that hacked into a satellite. None of it made sense. All of it was loud.

And in the middle of it, while the screen flashed with fluorescent chaos — Katherine sat there, utterly transfixed, her lips parted in a small, delighted smile, the glow of the screen dancing across her features.

Sebastian turned his head slightly.

God help me, he thought.

She looked—

No. No, no.

This is a public place. A movie theater. There were at least four teenagers in the row behind them. One of them was definitely recording TikToks.

And yet—

The shadows played along her cheekbones, that maddening grin still tugging at her lips. She was laughing under her breath, biting into popcorn like it was a sin, her body loose and relaxed and so close to his—

Hell.

His jaw tightened.

His hand flexed slightly on his thigh.

He was not going to lose it in the middle of Zombie Shark Vs. Robot Alligator.

He was better than this.

That’s when her hand — casually, as if by complete accident — slid down and landed gently on his thigh.

A few seconds passed.

She didn’t move it.

Sebastian inhaled slowly through his nose.

Katherine didn’t even look at him. Just crunched another piece of popcorn, eyes glued to the screen like she wasn’t currently committing emotional terrorism under the cover of Dolby Surround Sound.

He turned just enough to whisper, voice low and dangerous:

“Miss Brown…”

She finally glanced at him, eyes wide and innocent in the flickering blue light.

“Yes, Mister Cinepedia?”

His jaw twitched.

She smiled.

And kept her hand exactly where it was.

---

Sebastian sat frozen.

Stone-faced.

Still.

Barely breathing.

The film continued in all its absurd glory — now with the zombie shark flying a stolen helicopter — but he couldn’t hear a thing anymore. Not really. Not over the hum beneath his skin. The sheer, infuriating awareness of the woman beside him.

Her hand still rested on his thigh.

Casual.

Unapologetic.

Deadly.

And she knew exactly what she was doing.

Katherine didn’t look at him. Not once. Her eyes stayed on the screen, her lips twitching with that smug little smile, and she didn’t even pretend to move her hand.

Sebastian clenched his jaw so tightly it hurt.

His thoughts were no longer coherent. Just a string of very vivid, very inappropriate scenarios that absolutely, positively did not belong in a theater full of families and sticky soda cups.

She’s going to kill me, he thought.

When the credits finally rolled, Sebastian didn’t say a word.

He stood up.

Took her hand.

And walked.

No — marched.

Straight down the aisle, out of the row, past the confused teens and slouched couples, ignoring the staff holding open the doors.

“Kinda in a hurry, aren’t we?” Katherine teased breathlessly, trying to keep up.

But Sebastian didn’t answer.

His grip was firm, steps quick, shoulders tight.

Katherine practically had to jog behind him, barefoot again — her shoes dangling from one hand.

“Sebastian, slow down! You’re going to mow down a toddler.”

He didn’t even glance back.

Okay then.

They passed the popcorn stand. The photo booth. The sad claw machine.

Katherine tried again, voice lighter, teasing: “I’ve never seen a single touch reduce a man to—”

He sped up.

“Oh my God,” she laughed. “Sebastian, wait! I’m gonna trip!”

Still nothing.

Finally, as they reached the last corridor toward the exit, she shouted:

“SEBASTIAN!”

He stopped dead.

She couldn’t halt in time.

Thud.

Katherine slammed right into his back — nose, chest, knees — full body contact like a one-woman tackle.

“Damn …” she groaned, clutching his shoulder. “Ouch. Okay. Ouch. But hey. You finally stopped.”

Sebastian turned around slowly, his eyes dark with something sharp and electric.

Katherine blinked up at him, still slightly breathless. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer.

He just looked at her.

Like a man who had zero plans of making it out of this theater without doing something thoroughly indecent.

And Katherine?

She smiled.

Sweet.

Innocent.

And utterly dangerous.

---

As soon as they slid into the backseat, the door barely clicked shut before Sebastian spoke, voice strained and breathless.

“To your place?” he asked the driver, directing him toward Katherine’s apartment.

She nodded, pulse racing.

Then he leaned in — and kissed her.

Not polite. Not restrained. He kissed her like he needed the air in her lungs, like he’d been holding back for days. His hands gripped her waist with urgency that stole her breath, sending electric sparks through every nerve. Katherine’s breath hitched — a soft sound, half exhale, half moan.

When they finally broke apart, she leaned forward, heart pounding. “Wait.”

Sebastian froze, forehead still resting against hers.

“At least… until the apartment.”

He blinked once — then sealed his gaze onto hers, lost for a fraction of a second. Then he moved again, weight shifting between inside and outside the car.

The driver glanced in the mirror, tension palpable. Katherine’s pulse thundered in her ears.

Sebastian’s eyes darkened. He opened his mouth, leaned in…

The kiss came again. Harder. More heated. Clothes pressing, kisses urgent. Katherine clutched his collar, breath stolen by the sudden intensity.

His hands moved—exploring—brushing an edge of her top. Her heart stuttered. This was happening.

Then, as quickly as it began, he drew back, breathing heavily.

“Katherine,” he murmured, voice low and thick. “How long till home?”

She pressed a hand to her racing chest. “About fifteen to twenty minutes.”

Sebastian exhaled — long and strained, the sound a growl of control held precariously at bay.

---

They sat in growing silence — breaths loud in the confined space — as the driver navigated city streets.

Katherine leaned in, voice soft: “Sebastian…”

He turned, fingers still tangled in the fabric of her shirt. “Yeah.”

Her eyes held a mischievous spark. “Just… try to wait, okay?”

He closed his eyes. “Trying.”

A hiss of tension crackled between them, as palpable as the momentum of desire itself.

And all the while, the car carried them toward her door — fifteen to twenty minutes of delicious torture.

---