Elias
Shit. Okay, alright, so I should have just taken Bahir's track. Ignore the /shit/ out of things, let all of us pretend it didn't happen. Because that went over like a freaking lead balloon. I go over there, I know what I mean to say, and then things just-- Shit.
It is /not/ all me, either, thanks a lot, Elias! I'm not /stupid/. /Demonstrative/? We've been friends for months and he's never felt the need to /demonstrate/ a kiss with me before. And I may not be a total slut like some people, but I've danced with enough guys to know when--
Fuck it. He's made it quite clear that he doesn't want to be up front about /anything/ with me these days, because it's easier to be angry at me for not liking his boyfriend (how freaking stupid am I? I /know/ better than to break that girl rule. Speaking ill of the boyfriend while they're fighting. I /know/ better, but he just gets under my /skin/--) or what the hell ever than to even begin to recognize that maybe, just /maybe/ he crossed a line and was kind of a dick.
I don't even know what I'm angry about. His fixtation on the fact that I don't like Jackson much or his refusal to just own up to it and move on or his complete lack of consistency in conversation or his claim that my dislike of cheaters-- I don't even know what that means. That last one. My /hang-up/ fucks up things for /him/? For /him/? I don't even-- Does he have /any/ idea--
I mean. I've spent all freaking day going over stuff, trying to figure out what the hell I've screwed up for him, what realms of his life, and part of it's because wow do I want to just throw shit back in his /face/, and part of it's that I'm a little bit terrified that it's true and I can't even see what it's doing to me or my friends or I don't know. And then I tell myself that he was just angry and I pushed in wrong directions and said shit about his boyfriend that I should have known better than to say.
And it's probably true, right? I mean. Surely it's true. Elias is-- I mean. He's self-absorbed as hell sometimes, but he's never been /intentionally/ hurtful to me before. He's been pretty damned supportive a couple of times.
Maybe I should have just let it be a kiss and nothing more. The thing is-- I can't. I can't, because I know damned well that it's never just that. Because even if I don't like Jackson, he doesn't /deserve/ that, and I /do/ like Elias, and he shouldn't /be/ that. He's /better/ than that. It's not that I think it's about me - I'm pretty sure it's not. It usually isn't , is it? It's about /him/, and what's going on with him that he won't /admit/ to.
I'm not so far gone that I can't accept mistakes. Especially when it was so small. But damn, to sit there and /rewrite/ it like that, to tell me it wasn't what it was, to make excuses and redefine and outright /lie/. That makes me worried. That's-- that's a lot worse. That's the sort of fucking rationalization Bri fed me, and I was dumb enough to believe it once.
So hell, maybe /that's/ what my /hang-ups/ screw up for him. But he's lying to himself if he thinks he's both perfectly happy and content with his boyfriend (who he was bitching about to me just this week I might /add/) /and/ forgetting everything and kissing me on a dance floor in a bar. They don't go together! It's not that I think he's into me - I mean, maybe he was, at one point, but there's no fucking escaping the fact that he is so latched onto Jackson that he's rewriting half of who he /is/ to be with him (what the /hell/, vegetarian?) - but when you /forget/ and you /kiss someone else/ it means that /something/ is going on.
Fuck. And despite all that, I still think I should have just done what Bahir did. Because Elias is a friend, and I'm not doing so hot this year with the retaining friends thing, even if-- I just, you know. I don't know.
I should just step out of the whole mess for awhile. Leave him alone, leave /them/ alone, get my damned work done. I really want to defend by Halloween, but I have a lot of work to get done before then if that's going to happen. I don't have time for this.
I mean, if the world's going to end anyway, I'd better hurry, right?
8/10
As evening falls, Elias is finally alone and finally back in his own apartment. The place is a wreck, disheveled and disorganized, far from his usual neatness. He's settled on the couch, watching TV but not really paying attention. It's the Olympics and it doesn't hold his attention.
Natalie has spent most of the day working. Sort of. She sits now on her couch, cross-legged in denim shorts, her hands resting on bare knees as she stares at the phone on the coffee table in front of her. It takes awhile for her to gain the steadiness of breath to snatch it up and jab fingers at speeddial, and when she does it's with an annoyed scowl, directed largely at her own unsureness.
Elias stares at the phone for a full minute while it rings. He wrinkles his nose and by the time he finally picks it up, it stops ringing. He punches a button to see who called and immediately calls back. "Hey, Natalie, sorry. The phone was no where near me." He pauses for a second before adding an after thought. "So, what's up?"
Elias catches Natalie in the midst of voicemail leaving, a cross-call caught only by call waiting, halfway through a "Guess we really need to--" before Natalie pulls the phone away, squints at it, and then fusses with some buttons, only to answer breathlessly, "Elias? Hold on, I've got you on the other line-- voicemail you. Um. Hold on, let me--" And then she disappears for a moment, to the beeping of a few more buttons before she returns again. "Elias?"
"Yep. Still here. You?" Eli jokes lightly, but sobers up. "Sorry."
"Yeah, here." That settled, there's an abrupt stretch of silence as Natalie forgets what it was that was meant to come next. Eventually she asks haltingly. "Um. What're you-- where are you?"
"I'm in my apartment, trying to pay attention to the Olympics. It's not as exciting as when I was a kid." Elias reaches over and grabs a glass of water and takes a sip. "What are you doing?"
"Calling you," Natalie says, her answer more of a lame reaction than any attempt at witty or snarky. A pause as she slides her hand across her face, and then she says, "Um. Can I come over?"
"Um. Sure. Let me straighten up - Well, you're not outside, so I'll have time, right?" Elias scowls at the phone as he grabs the remote and turns off the TV.
"I'm at home," Natalie confirms. A pause, and then she adds, "It'll take me-- awhile."
"Good. I might have the place smelling like pinesol by the time you arrive then." Eli's attempts at humor continue as he gets to his feet and surveys the apartment. "Well, I'll get a window open."
"Oh, don't worry about anything," Natalie answers as she rises from the couch, phone held carefully to her ear. Her tone is distracted, only half-attentive, and she slides her feet into flip-flops before grabbing a zip hoody to tug on over the thin straps of her ivory tank. "Just-- I'll see you in a bit."
"See you then." Eli hangs up a second or two later, frowning at the state of the apartment and begins making an effort to clean up despite Natalie's reassurances. He is at least clean to start with. He does run a comb through his hair as he finishes, stashing the clothes in the closet and the sheets straightened on the mattress and whatever else he can grab. By the time Natalie arrives, the natural circulation has taken the edge off the stuffiness in the room and makes it almost pleasant as he lights a candle to clear the rest of the air.
Natalie's travel over is not slow, but neither is it quick. She stands outside Elias' building for a moment, staring at the list of names there before she draws in a breath and buzzes his apartment.
Elias jumps at the sound of the buzzer and scowls briefly, moving over cautiously and answering. "Yeah?"
"Natalie."
"Come on up." BZZZZZzzzt.
Up she comes, and she raps her knuckles light on Elias' door before rocking back, her hands shoved awkwardly in her back pockets as she studies the floor, lips twisted in thought. Her hair is braided rather than ponytailed today, which makes it easy for her to slip a hand free and tug on the end of it a touch nervously.
Elias opens the door right after he extinguishes the candle, the room having a second to breathe without looking like it's too 'aesthetic.' The place is still somewhat cluttered, but not a pigsty, therefore acceptable. Eli is wearing jeans and a tee. He looks a little nervous as well when he opens the door. "Come in. How's the weather?"
Natalie glances briefly around the apartment, primarily as a way to avoid looking at Elias for a moment longer. So too is the minute taken shrugging out of her hoody and tugging at the hem of her tank top before she rubs her palms (only slightly sweaty) across her hips. "What? Oh-- it's good. Nice." Eventually, she drags her gaze over to Elias and looks at him for a moment before saying, "So."
"So. Food? Drink? I have water and juice." Elias moves toward the kitchen. "We can order a pizza too. I'm not picky." He loosens up a little as he pads across the kitchen floor in search of glasses.
"Ah-- well. I mean. We can, if you want," Natalie answers, squinting at Elias for a moment before she trails after him, toward the kitchen. "I just kind of thought-- you know. We should talk?"
"So, we should talk." Eli moistens his lips as he turns around to face her. "So. Um. Friday night. Two drinks, two many dances. I'm sorry."
"Neither of us were that drunk, Elias," Natalie answers, lifting her eyes to look up at him. "Not at that point, anyway."
"Ah." Elias pours water into each glass and hands one to Natalie with a serious expression, countered by a rising eyebrow on his right side. "Okay. What's the point?"
Natalie hesitates for a moment and then leans forward to take the glass, hand drawing it back in slowly. "Er. What's what point?"
"I - I'm not sure. You want to sit down? The couch is clean." Elias gestures out of the kitchen and into the living room again. He sits down and looks back at Natalie. "What's your take on Friday night?"
"I should hope so," Natalie returns, her smile flitting swiftly into place and then disappearing again as she follows Elias from kitchen to couch, her glass still held untouched. She settles next to him, with enough distance to slant slightly to face him, and draws in a breath as she shakes her head. "I don't know, Elias. I don't understand what's going on with you."
"Ah, this. Stress, they say. I got shot at this morning." Elias tries to sound rather nonchalant, but there's an edge to his tone. "I actually don't really know. You've seen me before shows before. Somehow, this whole 'end of the world thing's got me thrown off."
"What?" Natalie startles, instantly distracted. "Shot at?"
"Yes. Fuckers came for Jackson's stray. He tried to bolt out the fire escape and got shot at. He turned into a cat and got nabbed anyway. Spent the morning with Mutant Affairs trying to get a report filed." Elias is uneasy as he relays the information, tossing back some water as if it were liquor. "Told the kid if he had problems like this, I'm taking him to the vet the next time I see him."
"Wow. Whoa. That's-- shit. Elias." Natalie's reaction is worried and frustrated and a note of helplessness flares in her gaze as she studies him.
Elias draws in a deep breath and raises his glass half way, exhaling moodily. He nods in agreement to her expressions. "Yeah. Jackson swore off human strays - but, yeah."
Natalie lifts her free hand to scrub it across her face and breathes out, slowly. There is a long moment of silence from Natalie, during which she considers the glass in her hands.
"So. Stress." Elias brings them back to the point, his gaze shifting to stare at the ground.
"That's some pretty serious stress," Natalie finally replies, lifting her gaze to stare at him.
Elias nods slowly and turns to sit forward on the couch, slouching over his lap as his rubs his fingers through his hair. He is still for a moment before glancing across the floor where a lone sock remains under the tv stand.
Natalie remains where she is, slanted toward Elias with her glass balanced carefully on a bare knee. She draws in a breath and says, "I mean. I guess if it were just some random girl, okay, but you pretty much know how I feel about-- I just. What's going /on/ with you, Elias?"
"What?" Elias turns his head in Natalie's direction with a frown. "Going on? You asking about the kiss or everything else in life? Huh? 'Cause I don't have an answer for you on either count. I mean, I can /try/ to explain, but I doubt you'll appreciate it because I've yet to stumble upon a miracle rational and there fore cure." Elias is exasperated, his forehead wrinkling as he exercises his larynx in lieu of anything else. "But you can get in line, if you want, and tell me like everyone else that I need professional help and possibly a good deal of anti-anxieties or anti-psychotics."
"Both, Elias," Natalie says quietly. There is a brief pause, and she leans forward to set her still-untouched glass of water on the coffee table to buy a moment's time before she straightens again and looks at him. "I /have/ seen you before a show," she finally answers. "And it's not this. It hasn't been. And of all the things to do, of all the /people/-- you /know/ how I feel about it. So yeah, I'm asking about it. Because frankly, I'm fucking confused and -- I mean. Jackson was /there/, Elias. In the same /room/."
"I forgot. For a few long minutes, there was only you." Elias draws in a deep breath as he rolls his shoulders. "And I forgot about the cheating and I forgot about the boyfriend and I forgot about everything. I just - I was so fucking happy you weren't mad at me I could have kissed you." He takes a deep breath and shrugs. "And I did."
Natalie stills for a moment, breath very abruptly caught in her throat, and then she swallows and blinks at him, very slow. "Elias," she says quietly. "That is not a good thing."
"Yeah." Elias admits, frowning. Head falling back into his hands again. "I'm getting that feeling from /everyone./"
"Everyone?" Natalie asks, her voice soft. Her gaze remains fixed on Elias, dark-eyed as his head falls back.
"Bahir gave me the name of a shrink and Jackson is getting to the point where he's - fuck, it's like he knows I'm fragile and he's afraid to do anything with me." Elias gets up, turning to Natalie. "Do you want more water?" Has she taken a drink at all? Eli needs a refill.
"I'm good," Natalie answers instantly before she draws in a breath and says, "I wasn't really talking about the stress, though. I meant-- um. The forgetting."
"Gah. Focus. I get focused. That's not insanity. Plus, I'm not good with drinking and - fuck." Elias escapes to the kitchen, the faucet running but the water running down the drain. "Why -" And then there's nothing. Eli's just quiet.
"That's not /focus/, Elias. /Focus/ doesn't mean forgetting that you have a boyfriend just across the room." Natalie's voice grows louder, following him into the kitchen, although she doesn't move herself. "Especially as into him as you've been claiming to be--"
"Oh, That's it." Elias turns the water off and stares over in her direction even if he can't see her at the moment. "You hate Jackson so much - you can't wait to find some reason for us to break up." He leaves the kitchen without his glass and stares at her (for real this time). "He told me what you said to him the other day. What the hell? Kick him to the curb?"
Natalie flushes instantly, and she has the good grace to look both embarassed and abashed as she meets his gaze for a moment before breaking away to study her hands. "I probably shouldn't have gone off on him like that," she admits in a bit of a rush. "I was stressed and grouchy and he was being-- just. /Really/ annoying." There's a flare of defensive as she whips her head up and goes, "But I /would/ have kicked him to the curb by now, and I probably should have bit my tongue but-- I don't /hate/ Jackson, Elias. If you're happy with him, fine. I'm happy to see you happy. But I don't like him much, no. And I definitely--" Natalie breaks off abruptly and presses her lips together, shaking her head. There is a brief silence before she says forcefully, "I am /not/ trying to break you up. But I do think you need to think damned hard about the /right across the room/ part of things. Because dicking around on him--"
"You hate him and you damn well know it. Don't lie to me to make your point, Natalie. Good fuck, it's like your skin physically crawls when I talk about him." Elias' sets his jaw as he moves into the living room again. "And I know you're not interested in me. That kiss was certainly proof of your lack of attraction. I can't think of anything else that would inspire you to go at him as hotly and as heavily as you have been."
"There is a difference between hating someone and thinking they're not half good enough for your friend," Natalie replies with swift and sudden heat, her words spilling rapidly and without thought. She straightens in her seat on the couch as Elias returns, and she frowns. "That /kiss/ was proof of the fact that you are /dating someone else/. /Dating him seriously/. Please, Elias, tell me that you know that that was a /big deal/--"
"It was a kiss! It lasted half a second. I was not /remotely/ turned on. Just because you're insanely undemonstrative because of your extremely /huge/ hang up on cheating - one that I have to admit fucks up many differently realms in - hell, /my/ life that are entirely unexpected ways - it does not mean that I can't be demonstrative." Eli draws in a deep breath as he shakes his head at Natalie. "Jackson is not upset - except for the fact that I kissed the woman that chewed him out that same day for being unequal to me - which is utter bullshit. Jackson is a kind and caring individual that gets fucked over one too many times and I am /not/ going to do that to him." When he stops, his voice hitches and his attention diverts elsewhere quickly.
Natalie flinches slightly, rocking back into the couch as a flash of hurt sweeps across her features. For a long moment there is silence, and it stretches heavily and unhappily between the two. Eventually Natalie stirs, standing slowly from her seat on the couch. "Okay. Well." Her voice is shaking slightly as she speaks, and she slides her hands to her opposite arms in a half-hug. "I am sorry that my huge hang-up has fucked up so many realms of /your/ life." Her expression tight and closed-off as she stares at him. "And terribly happy that you and your boyfriend are cool with /demonstrating/ with other people, as long as he /approves/ of them. Terribly sorry that I can't be." Her voice rises as she speaks, and she moves, around the coffee table and toward the door. "Or have any /fucking/ respect for someone who can."
"I was just happy, Natalie. I wasn't trying to /seduce/ you. I want your friendship, not your body." That sounded less cheesy on the inside. Elias deflates, his face registering confusion. He shifts his weight and gestures awkwardly with his hands near his waist. "I don't know how to convince you of that though."
"I was pretty clear on that point before--" Natalie breaks off, anger wiping all other emotions from her face as she sweeps her jacket up and shrugs into it. "I don't think I can talk to you about this," she says instead, and jerks the door open.
"I'm not saying cheating is okay. Fucking hell. What happened to you is the worst thing that could - I would never do that to someone, but you have to fucking trust me." Elias' head hangs afterwards, the study of his own feet becoming very important.
"You kissed me while your boyfriend was in the same room," Natalie says, turning with the door held open to stare across at him. "And it wasn't just the kiss, because the dancing-- I damn well should have left earlier and I know it, but you can't /tell/ me you were just being-- /friendly/. And now you're standing there trying to tell me that it's /not/ a problem." A pause, and then Natalie shoots "Of course, given your track record, maybe you /do/ just kiss all your friends," at him, her tone heavy with bitch.
"Well, thanks for bringing that up." Elias rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Fine. I apologized and he told me not to. I thought maybe I wasn't as fucked over as I thought. I'm sorry. I'm scum. I'm a fucking piece of trash that can't seem to keep friends these days. Hell, I chewed Aly's head off the other day and she ain't coming back." He inhales deeply as he studies her, his own face wounded and angry. "I'm sorry. I wish like hell I hadn't done it - and it's going to haunt me." It's Truuuueeee.
"It's not the /kiss/ I'm mad about, Elias," Natalie answers bluntly, with a distinct lack of sympathy. "It's the fucking lying." Her fingers tighten on the doorknob. "I didn't come over here expecting to fight with you. Of course, it never /dawned/ on me that you might try to claim that it was anything but what it was. A mistake." Her jaw set, Natalie tugs the door further open and steps into the hall. "I have to go," she says briefly, and then she's striding down the hallway, her flip-flops cracking against the floor with every step.
"There is nothing I can do right when you're like this. Have you ever considered that BOTH might be true?" Elias shakes his head and turns away. "Humans aren't black and white."
It's impossible to know whether Natalie hears or not - certainly, her steps don't slow, and soon she's gone entirely.
Confrontation.
It is /not/ all me, either, thanks a lot, Elias! I'm not /stupid/. /Demonstrative/? We've been friends for months and he's never felt the need to /demonstrate/ a kiss with me before. And I may not be a total slut like some people, but I've danced with enough guys to know when--
Fuck it. He's made it quite clear that he doesn't want to be up front about /anything/ with me these days, because it's easier to be angry at me for not liking his boyfriend (how freaking stupid am I? I /know/ better than to break that girl rule. Speaking ill of the boyfriend while they're fighting. I /know/ better, but he just gets under my /skin/--) or what the hell ever than to even begin to recognize that maybe, just /maybe/ he crossed a line and was kind of a dick.
I don't even know what I'm angry about. His fixtation on the fact that I don't like Jackson much or his refusal to just own up to it and move on or his complete lack of consistency in conversation or his claim that my dislike of cheaters-- I don't even know what that means. That last one. My /hang-up/ fucks up things for /him/? For /him/? I don't even-- Does he have /any/ idea--
I mean. I've spent all freaking day going over stuff, trying to figure out what the hell I've screwed up for him, what realms of his life, and part of it's because wow do I want to just throw shit back in his /face/, and part of it's that I'm a little bit terrified that it's true and I can't even see what it's doing to me or my friends or I don't know. And then I tell myself that he was just angry and I pushed in wrong directions and said shit about his boyfriend that I should have known better than to say.
And it's probably true, right? I mean. Surely it's true. Elias is-- I mean. He's self-absorbed as hell sometimes, but he's never been /intentionally/ hurtful to me before. He's been pretty damned supportive a couple of times.
Maybe I should have just let it be a kiss and nothing more. The thing is-- I can't. I can't, because I know damned well that it's never just that. Because even if I don't like Jackson, he doesn't /deserve/ that, and I /do/ like Elias, and he shouldn't /be/ that. He's /better/ than that. It's not that I think it's about me - I'm pretty sure it's not. It usually isn't , is it? It's about /him/, and what's going on with him that he won't /admit/ to.
I'm not so far gone that I can't accept mistakes. Especially when it was so small. But damn, to sit there and /rewrite/ it like that, to tell me it wasn't what it was, to make excuses and redefine and outright /lie/. That makes me worried. That's-- that's a lot worse. That's the sort of fucking rationalization Bri fed me, and I was dumb enough to believe it once.
So hell, maybe /that's/ what my /hang-ups/ screw up for him. But he's lying to himself if he thinks he's both perfectly happy and content with his boyfriend (who he was bitching about to me just this week I might /add/) /and/ forgetting everything and kissing me on a dance floor in a bar. They don't go together! It's not that I think he's into me - I mean, maybe he was, at one point, but there's no fucking escaping the fact that he is so latched onto Jackson that he's rewriting half of who he /is/ to be with him (what the /hell/, vegetarian?) - but when you /forget/ and you /kiss someone else/ it means that /something/ is going on.
Fuck. And despite all that, I still think I should have just done what Bahir did. Because Elias is a friend, and I'm not doing so hot this year with the retaining friends thing, even if-- I just, you know. I don't know.
I should just step out of the whole mess for awhile. Leave him alone, leave /them/ alone, get my damned work done. I really want to defend by Halloween, but I have a lot of work to get done before then if that's going to happen. I don't have time for this.
I mean, if the world's going to end anyway, I'd better hurry, right?
8/10
As evening falls, Elias is finally alone and finally back in his own apartment. The place is a wreck, disheveled and disorganized, far from his usual neatness. He's settled on the couch, watching TV but not really paying attention. It's the Olympics and it doesn't hold his attention.
Natalie has spent most of the day working. Sort of. She sits now on her couch, cross-legged in denim shorts, her hands resting on bare knees as she stares at the phone on the coffee table in front of her. It takes awhile for her to gain the steadiness of breath to snatch it up and jab fingers at speeddial, and when she does it's with an annoyed scowl, directed largely at her own unsureness.
Elias stares at the phone for a full minute while it rings. He wrinkles his nose and by the time he finally picks it up, it stops ringing. He punches a button to see who called and immediately calls back. "Hey, Natalie, sorry. The phone was no where near me." He pauses for a second before adding an after thought. "So, what's up?"
Elias catches Natalie in the midst of voicemail leaving, a cross-call caught only by call waiting, halfway through a "Guess we really need to--" before Natalie pulls the phone away, squints at it, and then fusses with some buttons, only to answer breathlessly, "Elias? Hold on, I've got you on the other line-- voicemail you. Um. Hold on, let me--" And then she disappears for a moment, to the beeping of a few more buttons before she returns again. "Elias?"
"Yep. Still here. You?" Eli jokes lightly, but sobers up. "Sorry."
"Yeah, here." That settled, there's an abrupt stretch of silence as Natalie forgets what it was that was meant to come next. Eventually she asks haltingly. "Um. What're you-- where are you?"
"I'm in my apartment, trying to pay attention to the Olympics. It's not as exciting as when I was a kid." Elias reaches over and grabs a glass of water and takes a sip. "What are you doing?"
"Calling you," Natalie says, her answer more of a lame reaction than any attempt at witty or snarky. A pause as she slides her hand across her face, and then she says, "Um. Can I come over?"
"Um. Sure. Let me straighten up - Well, you're not outside, so I'll have time, right?" Elias scowls at the phone as he grabs the remote and turns off the TV.
"I'm at home," Natalie confirms. A pause, and then she adds, "It'll take me-- awhile."
"Good. I might have the place smelling like pinesol by the time you arrive then." Eli's attempts at humor continue as he gets to his feet and surveys the apartment. "Well, I'll get a window open."
"Oh, don't worry about anything," Natalie answers as she rises from the couch, phone held carefully to her ear. Her tone is distracted, only half-attentive, and she slides her feet into flip-flops before grabbing a zip hoody to tug on over the thin straps of her ivory tank. "Just-- I'll see you in a bit."
"See you then." Eli hangs up a second or two later, frowning at the state of the apartment and begins making an effort to clean up despite Natalie's reassurances. He is at least clean to start with. He does run a comb through his hair as he finishes, stashing the clothes in the closet and the sheets straightened on the mattress and whatever else he can grab. By the time Natalie arrives, the natural circulation has taken the edge off the stuffiness in the room and makes it almost pleasant as he lights a candle to clear the rest of the air.
Natalie's travel over is not slow, but neither is it quick. She stands outside Elias' building for a moment, staring at the list of names there before she draws in a breath and buzzes his apartment.
Elias jumps at the sound of the buzzer and scowls briefly, moving over cautiously and answering. "Yeah?"
"Natalie."
"Come on up." BZZZZZzzzt.
Up she comes, and she raps her knuckles light on Elias' door before rocking back, her hands shoved awkwardly in her back pockets as she studies the floor, lips twisted in thought. Her hair is braided rather than ponytailed today, which makes it easy for her to slip a hand free and tug on the end of it a touch nervously.
Elias opens the door right after he extinguishes the candle, the room having a second to breathe without looking like it's too 'aesthetic.' The place is still somewhat cluttered, but not a pigsty, therefore acceptable. Eli is wearing jeans and a tee. He looks a little nervous as well when he opens the door. "Come in. How's the weather?"
Natalie glances briefly around the apartment, primarily as a way to avoid looking at Elias for a moment longer. So too is the minute taken shrugging out of her hoody and tugging at the hem of her tank top before she rubs her palms (only slightly sweaty) across her hips. "What? Oh-- it's good. Nice." Eventually, she drags her gaze over to Elias and looks at him for a moment before saying, "So."
"So. Food? Drink? I have water and juice." Elias moves toward the kitchen. "We can order a pizza too. I'm not picky." He loosens up a little as he pads across the kitchen floor in search of glasses.
"Ah-- well. I mean. We can, if you want," Natalie answers, squinting at Elias for a moment before she trails after him, toward the kitchen. "I just kind of thought-- you know. We should talk?"
"So, we should talk." Eli moistens his lips as he turns around to face her. "So. Um. Friday night. Two drinks, two many dances. I'm sorry."
"Neither of us were that drunk, Elias," Natalie answers, lifting her eyes to look up at him. "Not at that point, anyway."
"Ah." Elias pours water into each glass and hands one to Natalie with a serious expression, countered by a rising eyebrow on his right side. "Okay. What's the point?"
Natalie hesitates for a moment and then leans forward to take the glass, hand drawing it back in slowly. "Er. What's what point?"
"I - I'm not sure. You want to sit down? The couch is clean." Elias gestures out of the kitchen and into the living room again. He sits down and looks back at Natalie. "What's your take on Friday night?"
"I should hope so," Natalie returns, her smile flitting swiftly into place and then disappearing again as she follows Elias from kitchen to couch, her glass still held untouched. She settles next to him, with enough distance to slant slightly to face him, and draws in a breath as she shakes her head. "I don't know, Elias. I don't understand what's going on with you."
"Ah, this. Stress, they say. I got shot at this morning." Elias tries to sound rather nonchalant, but there's an edge to his tone. "I actually don't really know. You've seen me before shows before. Somehow, this whole 'end of the world thing's got me thrown off."
"What?" Natalie startles, instantly distracted. "Shot at?"
"Yes. Fuckers came for Jackson's stray. He tried to bolt out the fire escape and got shot at. He turned into a cat and got nabbed anyway. Spent the morning with Mutant Affairs trying to get a report filed." Elias is uneasy as he relays the information, tossing back some water as if it were liquor. "Told the kid if he had problems like this, I'm taking him to the vet the next time I see him."
"Wow. Whoa. That's-- shit. Elias." Natalie's reaction is worried and frustrated and a note of helplessness flares in her gaze as she studies him.
Elias draws in a deep breath and raises his glass half way, exhaling moodily. He nods in agreement to her expressions. "Yeah. Jackson swore off human strays - but, yeah."
Natalie lifts her free hand to scrub it across her face and breathes out, slowly. There is a long moment of silence from Natalie, during which she considers the glass in her hands.
"So. Stress." Elias brings them back to the point, his gaze shifting to stare at the ground.
"That's some pretty serious stress," Natalie finally replies, lifting her gaze to stare at him.
Elias nods slowly and turns to sit forward on the couch, slouching over his lap as his rubs his fingers through his hair. He is still for a moment before glancing across the floor where a lone sock remains under the tv stand.
Natalie remains where she is, slanted toward Elias with her glass balanced carefully on a bare knee. She draws in a breath and says, "I mean. I guess if it were just some random girl, okay, but you pretty much know how I feel about-- I just. What's going /on/ with you, Elias?"
"What?" Elias turns his head in Natalie's direction with a frown. "Going on? You asking about the kiss or everything else in life? Huh? 'Cause I don't have an answer for you on either count. I mean, I can /try/ to explain, but I doubt you'll appreciate it because I've yet to stumble upon a miracle rational and there fore cure." Elias is exasperated, his forehead wrinkling as he exercises his larynx in lieu of anything else. "But you can get in line, if you want, and tell me like everyone else that I need professional help and possibly a good deal of anti-anxieties or anti-psychotics."
"Both, Elias," Natalie says quietly. There is a brief pause, and she leans forward to set her still-untouched glass of water on the coffee table to buy a moment's time before she straightens again and looks at him. "I /have/ seen you before a show," she finally answers. "And it's not this. It hasn't been. And of all the things to do, of all the /people/-- you /know/ how I feel about it. So yeah, I'm asking about it. Because frankly, I'm fucking confused and -- I mean. Jackson was /there/, Elias. In the same /room/."
"I forgot. For a few long minutes, there was only you." Elias draws in a deep breath as he rolls his shoulders. "And I forgot about the cheating and I forgot about the boyfriend and I forgot about everything. I just - I was so fucking happy you weren't mad at me I could have kissed you." He takes a deep breath and shrugs. "And I did."
Natalie stills for a moment, breath very abruptly caught in her throat, and then she swallows and blinks at him, very slow. "Elias," she says quietly. "That is not a good thing."
"Yeah." Elias admits, frowning. Head falling back into his hands again. "I'm getting that feeling from /everyone./"
"Everyone?" Natalie asks, her voice soft. Her gaze remains fixed on Elias, dark-eyed as his head falls back.
"Bahir gave me the name of a shrink and Jackson is getting to the point where he's - fuck, it's like he knows I'm fragile and he's afraid to do anything with me." Elias gets up, turning to Natalie. "Do you want more water?" Has she taken a drink at all? Eli needs a refill.
"I'm good," Natalie answers instantly before she draws in a breath and says, "I wasn't really talking about the stress, though. I meant-- um. The forgetting."
"Gah. Focus. I get focused. That's not insanity. Plus, I'm not good with drinking and - fuck." Elias escapes to the kitchen, the faucet running but the water running down the drain. "Why -" And then there's nothing. Eli's just quiet.
"That's not /focus/, Elias. /Focus/ doesn't mean forgetting that you have a boyfriend just across the room." Natalie's voice grows louder, following him into the kitchen, although she doesn't move herself. "Especially as into him as you've been claiming to be--"
"Oh, That's it." Elias turns the water off and stares over in her direction even if he can't see her at the moment. "You hate Jackson so much - you can't wait to find some reason for us to break up." He leaves the kitchen without his glass and stares at her (for real this time). "He told me what you said to him the other day. What the hell? Kick him to the curb?"
Natalie flushes instantly, and she has the good grace to look both embarassed and abashed as she meets his gaze for a moment before breaking away to study her hands. "I probably shouldn't have gone off on him like that," she admits in a bit of a rush. "I was stressed and grouchy and he was being-- just. /Really/ annoying." There's a flare of defensive as she whips her head up and goes, "But I /would/ have kicked him to the curb by now, and I probably should have bit my tongue but-- I don't /hate/ Jackson, Elias. If you're happy with him, fine. I'm happy to see you happy. But I don't like him much, no. And I definitely--" Natalie breaks off abruptly and presses her lips together, shaking her head. There is a brief silence before she says forcefully, "I am /not/ trying to break you up. But I do think you need to think damned hard about the /right across the room/ part of things. Because dicking around on him--"
"You hate him and you damn well know it. Don't lie to me to make your point, Natalie. Good fuck, it's like your skin physically crawls when I talk about him." Elias' sets his jaw as he moves into the living room again. "And I know you're not interested in me. That kiss was certainly proof of your lack of attraction. I can't think of anything else that would inspire you to go at him as hotly and as heavily as you have been."
"There is a difference between hating someone and thinking they're not half good enough for your friend," Natalie replies with swift and sudden heat, her words spilling rapidly and without thought. She straightens in her seat on the couch as Elias returns, and she frowns. "That /kiss/ was proof of the fact that you are /dating someone else/. /Dating him seriously/. Please, Elias, tell me that you know that that was a /big deal/--"
"It was a kiss! It lasted half a second. I was not /remotely/ turned on. Just because you're insanely undemonstrative because of your extremely /huge/ hang up on cheating - one that I have to admit fucks up many differently realms in - hell, /my/ life that are entirely unexpected ways - it does not mean that I can't be demonstrative." Eli draws in a deep breath as he shakes his head at Natalie. "Jackson is not upset - except for the fact that I kissed the woman that chewed him out that same day for being unequal to me - which is utter bullshit. Jackson is a kind and caring individual that gets fucked over one too many times and I am /not/ going to do that to him." When he stops, his voice hitches and his attention diverts elsewhere quickly.
Natalie flinches slightly, rocking back into the couch as a flash of hurt sweeps across her features. For a long moment there is silence, and it stretches heavily and unhappily between the two. Eventually Natalie stirs, standing slowly from her seat on the couch. "Okay. Well." Her voice is shaking slightly as she speaks, and she slides her hands to her opposite arms in a half-hug. "I am sorry that my huge hang-up has fucked up so many realms of /your/ life." Her expression tight and closed-off as she stares at him. "And terribly happy that you and your boyfriend are cool with /demonstrating/ with other people, as long as he /approves/ of them. Terribly sorry that I can't be." Her voice rises as she speaks, and she moves, around the coffee table and toward the door. "Or have any /fucking/ respect for someone who can."
"I was just happy, Natalie. I wasn't trying to /seduce/ you. I want your friendship, not your body." That sounded less cheesy on the inside. Elias deflates, his face registering confusion. He shifts his weight and gestures awkwardly with his hands near his waist. "I don't know how to convince you of that though."
"I was pretty clear on that point before--" Natalie breaks off, anger wiping all other emotions from her face as she sweeps her jacket up and shrugs into it. "I don't think I can talk to you about this," she says instead, and jerks the door open.
"I'm not saying cheating is okay. Fucking hell. What happened to you is the worst thing that could - I would never do that to someone, but you have to fucking trust me." Elias' head hangs afterwards, the study of his own feet becoming very important.
"You kissed me while your boyfriend was in the same room," Natalie says, turning with the door held open to stare across at him. "And it wasn't just the kiss, because the dancing-- I damn well should have left earlier and I know it, but you can't /tell/ me you were just being-- /friendly/. And now you're standing there trying to tell me that it's /not/ a problem." A pause, and then Natalie shoots "Of course, given your track record, maybe you /do/ just kiss all your friends," at him, her tone heavy with bitch.
"Well, thanks for bringing that up." Elias rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Fine. I apologized and he told me not to. I thought maybe I wasn't as fucked over as I thought. I'm sorry. I'm scum. I'm a fucking piece of trash that can't seem to keep friends these days. Hell, I chewed Aly's head off the other day and she ain't coming back." He inhales deeply as he studies her, his own face wounded and angry. "I'm sorry. I wish like hell I hadn't done it - and it's going to haunt me." It's Truuuueeee.
"It's not the /kiss/ I'm mad about, Elias," Natalie answers bluntly, with a distinct lack of sympathy. "It's the fucking lying." Her fingers tighten on the doorknob. "I didn't come over here expecting to fight with you. Of course, it never /dawned/ on me that you might try to claim that it was anything but what it was. A mistake." Her jaw set, Natalie tugs the door further open and steps into the hall. "I have to go," she says briefly, and then she's striding down the hallway, her flip-flops cracking against the floor with every step.
"There is nothing I can do right when you're like this. Have you ever considered that BOTH might be true?" Elias shakes his head and turns away. "Humans aren't black and white."
It's impossible to know whether Natalie hears or not - certainly, her steps don't slow, and soon she's gone entirely.
Confrontation.