buy you a telescope so you can see (how good this could be), nate/serena, pg, 1/2
spring.
Serena makes face at him across the dining table, all formal with its starched tablecloth and four different forks at each place setting. Her hair is a curly mess, barely restrained by one of Blair’s headbands, and there’s a collection of freckles on her nose.
Nate likes to think he’s much older than her, since he’s been ten for two months and she’s still a lowly nine years old. Nate likes to think that he gets to make the decisions when they play, that he dictates the rules of the game, that she has to do what he says.
But Serena makes faces at him, scrunched up nose and goofy eyes and a stuck-out tongue, and Nate bursts out laughing without meaning to. He tries to stifle it but totally fails, ducking his head as he tries to stop. His mother shushes him, says, Nathaniel in her scolding voice.
When he peeks up again, Serena’s grinning on the other side of the table, freckles on her nose and sunshine in her eyes, and it might be the moment Nate realizes that the ball has never, not for one moment, been in his court when it comes to her.
It’s later than evening, while their parents are saying their formal goodbyes, that Serena leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek. Maybe it’s an apology, maybe it’s a farewell. Whatever it is, it makes Nate turn the colour of a tomato.
-
summer.
There’s a summer, when they are fifteen or sixteen or seventeen, one of those ages when they made a mess of everything - there’s a summer when Serena pretends to date him.
Sometimes it feels like a little more than pretend. He catches her crying about Dan one evening and ends up staying overnight, curled up next to her in her bed, his arm slung loosely around her. She always leans over to lick around his ice cream cone like it’s not a big deal at all. She dares him to go skinny-dipping and he watches her peel off her clothes on the beach, skin made pale by the moonlight. He paints her toenails; she beats him at mini-golf.
Nate has an affair with an older woman that summer. She beckons, he goes to her, they sleep together. It’s fun enough, until he learns about her husband. The point, however, is that Nate has a secret: that’s why he dates Serena, to hide it.
He doesn’t know why she does it, and he never asks, because he’d like to think it’s because she wants to.
buy you a telescope so you can see (how good this could be), nate/serena, pg, 2/2
autumn.
It’s windy and half-raining, leaves soggy on the sidewalks, when Serena tells him that she loves him.
Nate is supposed to be at an important event right now. Nate is supposed to be posing with fake smiles in pictures with his mother and grandfather. Nate is supposed to board a flight that evening, to go to London, to start a new job, to make something of himself. Nate is supposed to do all kinds of things.
But Serena’s standing there in her sweater that hangs down over her hands with her damp hair and her wet cheeks, raindrops or teardrops, maybe both. She’s standing there looking right at him and when she says, “I love you,” there’s something in her voice, all raw and honest, that tugs him toward her.
“I love you, too,” he says quietly, without really intending to, without thinking it true.
Her lips twist. She looks small and sad and a little pale, freckles standing out on her nose. “Nate,” she says. “Nate, you don’t get it.”
He touches one of her wrists gently. “I get it.”
She shakes her head and then just looks at him for a long, long moment. “Stay,” she finally says, in a very small voice.
It’s the first time in his life that she’s ever said that word to him, and he takes her face in his hands, says yes in a kiss.
-
winter.
Serena wakes him with kisses and a cup of hot cocoa. He rubs at one of his eyes and takes it, holding it carefully, unsurprised to see their daughter’s feet resting on Serena’s pillows.
“She got impatient with us again?” he asks softly, wryly.
Serena touches a small foot gently; their daughter giggles. “Getting up any time after six o’clock in the morning is apparently much too late.”
Their little girl surfaces to grin at him, her hair a mussed-up pile on her head. “It’s snowing!” she reports. “Daddy!”
He smiles at her, at the freckles on her nose, at her curly mess of hair, at her blue eyes wide with excitement. He sees Serena as a little girl, he feels that same rush of warmth that he used to, the one he’s been feeling for years.
“Snowing, huh?” he murmurs, pulling the little girl into his lap, letting her lean against his chest.
Serena leans over to kiss his cheek, a soft press of her lips to his skin.
“I love you,” he tells her softly.
And she makes a face at him, scrunched up nose and goofy eyes, and he wonders how it took him so long to understand what it means.
spring.
Serena makes face at him across the dining table, all formal with its starched tablecloth and four different forks at each place setting. Her hair is a curly mess, barely restrained by one of Blair’s headbands, and there’s a collection of freckles on her nose.
Nate likes to think he’s much older than her, since he’s been ten for two months and she’s still a lowly nine years old. Nate likes to think that he gets to make the decisions when they play, that he dictates the rules of the game, that she has to do what he says.
But Serena makes faces at him, scrunched up nose and goofy eyes and a stuck-out tongue, and Nate bursts out laughing without meaning to. He tries to stifle it but totally fails, ducking his head as he tries to stop. His mother shushes him, says, Nathaniel in her scolding voice.
When he peeks up again, Serena’s grinning on the other side of the table, freckles on her nose and sunshine in her eyes, and it might be the moment Nate realizes that the ball has never, not for one moment, been in his court when it comes to her.
It’s later than evening, while their parents are saying their formal goodbyes, that Serena leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek. Maybe it’s an apology, maybe it’s a farewell. Whatever it is, it makes Nate turn the colour of a tomato.
-
summer.
There’s a summer, when they are fifteen or sixteen or seventeen, one of those ages when they made a mess of everything - there’s a summer when Serena pretends to date him.
Sometimes it feels like a little more than pretend. He catches her crying about Dan one evening and ends up staying overnight, curled up next to her in her bed, his arm slung loosely around her. She always leans over to lick around his ice cream cone like it’s not a big deal at all. She dares him to go skinny-dipping and he watches her peel off her clothes on the beach, skin made pale by the moonlight. He paints her toenails; she beats him at mini-golf.
Nate has an affair with an older woman that summer. She beckons, he goes to her, they sleep together. It’s fun enough, until he learns about her husband. The point, however, is that Nate has a secret: that’s why he dates Serena, to hide it.
He doesn’t know why she does it, and he never asks, because he’d like to think it’s because she wants to.
-
(cont)
Reply
autumn.
It’s windy and half-raining, leaves soggy on the sidewalks, when Serena tells him that she loves him.
Nate is supposed to be at an important event right now. Nate is supposed to be posing with fake smiles in pictures with his mother and grandfather. Nate is supposed to board a flight that evening, to go to London, to start a new job, to make something of himself. Nate is supposed to do all kinds of things.
But Serena’s standing there in her sweater that hangs down over her hands with her damp hair and her wet cheeks, raindrops or teardrops, maybe both. She’s standing there looking right at him and when she says, “I love you,” there’s something in her voice, all raw and honest, that tugs him toward her.
“I love you, too,” he says quietly, without really intending to, without thinking it true.
Her lips twist. She looks small and sad and a little pale, freckles standing out on her nose. “Nate,” she says. “Nate, you don’t get it.”
He touches one of her wrists gently. “I get it.”
She shakes her head and then just looks at him for a long, long moment. “Stay,” she finally says, in a very small voice.
It’s the first time in his life that she’s ever said that word to him, and he takes her face in his hands, says yes in a kiss.
-
winter.
Serena wakes him with kisses and a cup of hot cocoa. He rubs at one of his eyes and takes it, holding it carefully, unsurprised to see their daughter’s feet resting on Serena’s pillows.
“She got impatient with us again?” he asks softly, wryly.
Serena touches a small foot gently; their daughter giggles. “Getting up any time after six o’clock in the morning is apparently much too late.”
Their little girl surfaces to grin at him, her hair a mussed-up pile on her head. “It’s snowing!” she reports. “Daddy!”
He smiles at her, at the freckles on her nose, at her curly mess of hair, at her blue eyes wide with excitement. He sees Serena as a little girl, he feels that same rush of warmth that he used to, the one he’s been feeling for years.
“Snowing, huh?” he murmurs, pulling the little girl into his lap, letting her lean against his chest.
Serena leans over to kiss his cheek, a soft press of her lips to his skin.
“I love you,” he tells her softly.
And she makes a face at him, scrunched up nose and goofy eyes, and he wonders how it took him so long to understand what it means.
-
(fin)
Reply
this is all I want from them not Nate ending the series with a f'ing HIGH SCHOOLER.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment