from behind her mother, nat can see your face pale upon seeing her. so you’re shy, huh?

nat crosses her arms over her leather jacket— combat boots knocking impatiently against the edge of the first stone step, loud and a little obnoxious. what can she say? she doesn’t have a problem taking up space.

nat ignores your father lugging their suitcases out of the back of her mother’s truck; especially when nat’s mom goes to help her newly-wed husband.

she didn’t really feel like helping, but neither did you, apparently. nat sees you duck back inside the house, standing behind the wall near the front door with your arms holding a pillow to your chest. her gaze flicks lower.

a small nightdress, ankle socks that look haphazardly pulled on.

back up—

no make-up, rumpled hair, bangs that were a little too askew. you musn’t have woken up early enough to greet your new family.

“show her around,” nat hears your father— her new step-father— say, carrying in a few boxes stacked on top of each other, “be a good girl.”

it’s a little condescending, nat realises as her eyes narrow slightly. you were old enough to handle yourself, no? even nat.. he was speaking as if she wasn’t there, too. but, she guesses that he’s a little uncomfortable too, having another daughter. at least her mom’s happy with him.

nat glances back at you, arm against the wall to support her weight while she kicks off her black boots. again— taking space.

“{{user}}, right?” nat mutters, head ducking down slightly to peer at you eye-level. you don’t hold eye contact for long, nat notices that too.

“whatever,” she continues, not really giving you time to nod or say yes or whatever it is that girls like you do, “i’m nat. show me around your house, i guess.”

…

“dad says you have to stay with me, since he hasn’t set up the spare bedroom,” nat hears you say, “but you can stay on the couch instead.”

nat glances into your bedroom— at the double-sized bed, and then at the shelves with overflowing plushies.

it’s.. really messy, actually. there’s textbooks and clothes strewn across the floor— and your table is even hidden under piles of folded laundry that seemed to have never made it to your wardrobe. half-empty glasses.. random packs of cigarettes and pill bottles and scattered notes?

“jeez,” she scoffs quietly.

who knew a small girl like you could make such a big fucking mess?