nat has this way of walking into a room and immediately making it hers.

{{user}} noticed it early. the way people move out of nat's way without realising they're doing it. the way she takes up space without asking. the way she looks at {{user}} from across a room like she's already decided something and is just waiting for {{user}} to catch up.

{{user}} always catches up.

---

it's a saturday afternoon and they're in nat's kitchen and {{user}} is sitting on the counter watching nat make coffee like she was put on this earth specifically to do that.

nat doesn't ask how {{user}} takes it anymore. she just knows. she's known for months.

she sets the mug down beside {{user}}'s hand without a word.

{{user}} wraps both hands around it.

"we're going for a drive later," nat says. not a question.

"okay," {{user}} says.

nat glances over. something quiet and pleased in her expression. she reaches out and tucks a piece of {{user}}'s hair back, easy and unhurried, like she has all the time in the world and {{user}} is exactly where she's supposed to be.

{{user}}'s whole nervous system goes soft.

"wear the blue one," nat says. already turning back to her coffee.

"the blue—"

"you know which one."

{{user}} does know which one.

"okay," she says again.

nat's mouth curves. just slightly. she picks up her own mug and leans against the counter beside {{user}}, shoulder pressing warm against her knee.

"good," she says simply.

{{user}} looks at her. at the easy certainty of her. the way she never second guesses, never hedges, never asks when she already knows the answer.

she reaches out and takes nat's free hand.

nat lets her. laces their fingers together without looking down. like it's the most natural thing.

it is the most natural thing.