nothing to worry about
Title: nothing to worry about
Characters: Lily, Nate.
Rating/Word Count: PG, 543
One-Line Excerpt: But the transition is never easy and moving aside was never your style.
It’s unfair the way it happens, but then again, fair isn’t something you’ve ever relied on.
One moment you’re the girl men on the street spill their coffee’s gaping at, awed and wanting; you blink and you’re the woman they smirk at, slow and knowing; take a breath and you’re the one their gazes slide over, greener pastures beyond.
You would have said, all your young life, maintained with a tiny amused smirk, that you never craved the looks, never needed the attention - it came to you unsought after, spilled over you without notice-
- until it was gone and you were left bereft and naked in the cold with nothing to your name but failed attempts and fractured dreams.
There’s a bitter knotted-up peace to be made with that; scraps pulled together from memories, pieced together with false smiles and tinkling laughs, to keep you warm.
But the transition is never easy and moving aside was never your style.
He comes to your door a mess, suit disheveled, reeking of alcohol and waxing poetic about a girl, your girl, that men on the street spill their coffee’s gaping at.
You take him into your house, empty now, and you’re not precisely sure how or when or why that happened - but really family has always been a transient thing; one day you have a father and the next you don’t, one day you’re a little sister and the next you aren’t - same with husbands and sons. Nothing to worry about.
You pour yourself a drink and he prowls the living room. His words fill the room and you go to him, hands on his face, he holds very still. His bloodshot eyes look into you and see a greener pasture beyond - your girl that isn’t here - but you are - and who knows? Tomorrow you may not have a daughter.
You kiss him and he kisses back.
---
You look in the mirror and the dress still fits.
--
Bambi-eyes in the morning, terror and horror equal parts. You smile into his young face. “In both our best interest if this never happened, hm?”
No response is forthcoming and you finish putting in your earrings, already dressed for the day, and give him a once over - sitting up naked on your sofa, hair a mess, and eyes bewildered. “Come along then, I’m needed out and you can’t stay here.”
He obeys you; moves fast and anxiously and you take note of the emotions, recalling instances of your own - ashamed and bewildered, brimming with anticipation. There’s none of that now - maybe next time.
In the hallway, he glances at you, worried, confused. “I don’t- this… I…”
And your lips quirk a smile at him, “These things happen, Nathaniel. Nothing to worry about.”
He blinks and a long time ago you could have imagined what he was thinking, racing thoughts and a heart beating too hard.
Today you pat his arm. “Not that anything untoward did happen. Because such a thing wouldn’t do, would it?”
Another blink, surprise edged with guilty relief. “I… guess- no.”
You move a half step ahead of him.
“No.” He repeats, “It wouldn’t…” more firmly at the end there.
And you can feel his gaze on your profile, not sliding away at all.
Characters: Lily, Nate.
Rating/Word Count: PG, 543
One-Line Excerpt: But the transition is never easy and moving aside was never your style.
It’s unfair the way it happens, but then again, fair isn’t something you’ve ever relied on.
One moment you’re the girl men on the street spill their coffee’s gaping at, awed and wanting; you blink and you’re the woman they smirk at, slow and knowing; take a breath and you’re the one their gazes slide over, greener pastures beyond.
You would have said, all your young life, maintained with a tiny amused smirk, that you never craved the looks, never needed the attention - it came to you unsought after, spilled over you without notice-
- until it was gone and you were left bereft and naked in the cold with nothing to your name but failed attempts and fractured dreams.
There’s a bitter knotted-up peace to be made with that; scraps pulled together from memories, pieced together with false smiles and tinkling laughs, to keep you warm.
But the transition is never easy and moving aside was never your style.
He comes to your door a mess, suit disheveled, reeking of alcohol and waxing poetic about a girl, your girl, that men on the street spill their coffee’s gaping at.
You take him into your house, empty now, and you’re not precisely sure how or when or why that happened - but really family has always been a transient thing; one day you have a father and the next you don’t, one day you’re a little sister and the next you aren’t - same with husbands and sons. Nothing to worry about.
You pour yourself a drink and he prowls the living room. His words fill the room and you go to him, hands on his face, he holds very still. His bloodshot eyes look into you and see a greener pasture beyond - your girl that isn’t here - but you are - and who knows? Tomorrow you may not have a daughter.
You kiss him and he kisses back.
---
You look in the mirror and the dress still fits.
--
Bambi-eyes in the morning, terror and horror equal parts. You smile into his young face. “In both our best interest if this never happened, hm?”
No response is forthcoming and you finish putting in your earrings, already dressed for the day, and give him a once over - sitting up naked on your sofa, hair a mess, and eyes bewildered. “Come along then, I’m needed out and you can’t stay here.”
He obeys you; moves fast and anxiously and you take note of the emotions, recalling instances of your own - ashamed and bewildered, brimming with anticipation. There’s none of that now - maybe next time.
In the hallway, he glances at you, worried, confused. “I don’t- this… I…”
And your lips quirk a smile at him, “These things happen, Nathaniel. Nothing to worry about.”
He blinks and a long time ago you could have imagined what he was thinking, racing thoughts and a heart beating too hard.
Today you pat his arm. “Not that anything untoward did happen. Because such a thing wouldn’t do, would it?”
Another blink, surprise edged with guilty relief. “I… guess- no.”
You move a half step ahead of him.
“No.” He repeats, “It wouldn’t…” more firmly at the end there.
And you can feel his gaze on your profile, not sliding away at all.