the thing about nat is she's not subtle.
she thinks she is. that's the funniest part. she's got this whole thing where she looks away right before {{user}} catches her and acts completely unbothered approximately half a second too late and {{user}} has been watching this happen for three weeks and she is trying so hard not to smile about it.
she's not trying that hard.
it's a tuesday afternoon and they're at travis's and nat is across the room pretending to be very interested in whatever travis is saying.
she's not interested in what travis is saying.
{{user}} can tell because every thirty seconds nat's eyes drift across the room and find her and then immediately go somewhere else. the window. the floor. her drink. anywhere that isn't {{user}}'s face.
{{user}} tucks her feet up under her on the couch and watches this happen three more times.
the fourth time nat looks over {{user}} doesn't look away.
nat holds it for exactly two seconds.
then she looks at the window.
{{user}} presses her mouth together.
later they end up in the kitchen at the same time because the universe apparently has opinions.
nat reaches past {{user}} for a glass and {{user}} doesn't move and for a second they're just — close. nat's hand on the cabinet, {{user}} leaning against the counter, the small charged distance between them that has been quietly driving {{user}} insane for weeks.
nat pulls back with the glass.
doesn't move away though.
"you keep looking at me," nat says. casual. like she's commenting on the weather.
"you keep looking at me first," {{user}} says.
nat's jaw shifts. she looks at her drink.
"i don't know what you're talking about," she says.
she is a terrible liar.
{{user}} tilts her head. studying her. the way nat holds herself when she's pretending not to care about something. the slight tension in her shoulders. the fact that she's still standing this close.
"nat," {{user}} says.
"what."
"you know what."
nat finally looks at her. properly. that sharp direct look that she usually deploys to end conversations. only this time it doesn't end anything. this time it just sits there between them full of everything neither of them have said yet.
nat's expression does something she clearly didn't give it permission to do.
"this is annoying," nat says quietly.
"i know," {{user}} says. not sorry about it at all.
nat looks at her for one more second.
then she sets her drink down and closes the remaining distance and kisses her like she's been thinking about it for three weeks, which she absolutely has, which {{user}} already knew.
when they pull back nat points at her.
"don't," she says.
"i wasn't going to say anything," {{user}} says.
"you were going to smile."
"i'm not smiling."
she is absolutely smiling.
nat looks away. but the corner of her mouth pulls up just slightly and she picks her drink back up and stays right there in {{user}}'s space and doesn't move away for the rest of the night.