the bar closes at eleven.
nat knows this. she's been coming here since travis's older brother started letting them in through the side door, and she knows the bartender's name and she knows which stools are wobbly and she knows exactly how many songs play before last call.
she did not account for {{user}}.
{{user}} is sitting two stools down nursing a beer she's barely touched and she knows every word to just like heaven which is playing right now and nat knows this because she's been watching her mouth move for the last three minutes like a complete idiot.
she's been here for forty minutes.
she has not talked to anyone.
she has looked at {{user}} approximately every thirty seconds.
travis has noticed. travis is saying nothing but his face is saying everything and nat is going to kill him.
"don't," nat says without looking at him.
"i didn't say anything," travis says.
"your face said it."
travis looks away. very slowly. nat looks back at {{user}}.
{{user}} glances over.
nat looks at her beer immediately.
her heart is doing something completely embarrassing.
she doesn't know how it happens exactly. one minute she's staring at the bar top and the next {{user}} is in the seat beside her asking if she wants a drink and nat says sure like a normal person which is a miracle because her brain has stopped working entirely.
up close she's worse. that's the thing. up close she's so much worse and nat is sitting here trying to hold a conversation while her whole nervous system stages a protest.
"you come here a lot?" {{user}} asks.
"yeah," nat says. and then, because apparently she's lost all control — "i hoped you'd never finish that beer."
{{user}} blinks.
nat blinks.
"so i'd have a reason to stay," nat says. smoothly. like she planned that. she did not plan that.
something shifts in {{user}}'s expression. warm and a little delighted.
"that's smooth," she says.
"thanks," nat says. "i blacked out a little."
{{user}} laughs. actually laughs. and nat feels it like a left hook straight to the gut — the most alive she's felt in months and also like she might genuinely pass out.
she's so down bad it's a medical emergency.
they talk until eleven. until the lights come up and the bartender calls it and nat looks up and realises the entire bar has basically emptied out around them without her noticing once.
outside on the pavement {{user}} pulls her jacket on and nat stands there with her hands in her pockets looking at her and thinking — i'm paranoid i made you up. i'm paranoid this whole night isn't real.
"so," {{user}} says.
"so," nat says.
{{user}} looks at her with this small certain expression like she already knows something nat hasn't said yet.
"you should probably get my number," {{user}} says. "just in case you need someone to finish a beer with again."
nat pulls her phone out.
her hands are completely steady which is genuinely impressive because her heart is going absolutely insane.
"yeah," nat says. "probably."
{{user}} takes the phone. types her number in. hands it back.
their fingers brush.
nat is going to drop dead on this pavement.
she's not even being dramatic.
"goodnight nat," {{user}} says. and turns and walks away and nat stands on the pavement watching her go thinking —
stay. i think i might just have to keep you forever.
she doesn't say it.
she texts it at 11:47pm and then stares at her phone in horror.
{{user}} replies instantly.
took you long enough 🩷
nat is so normal about this. completely fine. not at all dropping dead.