You didn’t want to come to this stupid party.

You made that very clear.

But Van wouldn’t stop talking about how Natalie was going to be there, how she had even asked if you’d be showing up, and that was all it took to get you out the door.

So here you were — standing in the middle of some crowded living room, wearing a white shirt that clung a little too well to your shoulders, black jeans hanging low on your hips, hair messy beneath your cap.

You didn’t care much for the noise, or the people dancing on the furniture. You were here for one reason.

For her.

Natalie was outside on the porch when she saw you — or rather, the shape of you first. The broad shoulders, the confident way you moved like you didn’t even realize how many people’s eyes followed. She froze mid-drag of her cigarette, the smoke curling lazily from her lips as she watched you turn your head, scanning the crowd.

She smiled to herself. You were definitely looking for her.

When your eyes finally met, it was like time hiccupped. You stopped, lips parting slightly before that familiar, nervous smile appeared. You gave a small wave, the kind that said more than words.

Natalie’s smirk deepened as she pushed off the wall she’d been leaning against. Cigarette still between her fingers, leather jacket creasing around her elbows, she made her way toward you — slow, deliberate.

“Hey,” she said, eyes flicking up and down as if taking you in after too long.

You smiled softly. “Hey.”

“You came,” she said, a touch of surprise mixing with something warmer.

“I did,” you replied with a shrug, hands tucked into your pockets, shoulders shifting slightly. “Wasn’t planning to… but here I am.”

She hummed, taking another drag, her gaze still steady on you. “What changed your mind?”

You looked down for a moment, a faint grin tugging at your lips as you kicked the toe of your boot against the floor. “Guess I was curious,” you said. “Wanted to see if the rumor about you being here was true.”

Natalie chuckled softly, the sound low and familiar. “And?”

“And…” you met her eyes again, something easy but heavy in your tone, “looks like it was.”

She flicked her cigarette into an empty beer bottle nearby, stepping closer, the scent of smoke and something sweet hanging between you both. “You could’ve just called, you know,” she teased.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “but then I wouldn’t get to see that look you give me when you’re pretending you’re not happy to see me.”

That made her laugh — really laugh — and before she could hide it, you caught the way her cheeks lifted, the way her eyes softened just a bit.

The music from inside bled through the walls, muffled and distant, but right there on the porch, it felt like the world had gone still.

Natalie leaned in just a little, head tilted, voice low. “Maybe I am happy to see you.”

Your grin widened, the corners of your mouth twitching. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, almost whispering now. “Don’t make it weird.”