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.
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)
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this is all I want from them not Nate ending the series with a f'ing HIGH SCHOOLER.
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