whenshewasnice | Natalie's Apartment, Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, Monday

The weekend had been unexpected. (That was a word for it, sure.) Clearly Natalie had been a little dumb and optimistic when she'd thought Fandom couldn't get her way out here. And clearly, she needed some kind of system in place for these things. Like a notebook on how not to draw too much attention to yourself while inhabiting Natalie's body.

Not that tiny Natalie had had much of a problem with that. She'd been much too preoccupied with taking care of Moxy to cause a commotion apart from letting security downstairs know Jim had been coming.

But still. Ugh. Waking up, she felt like there was a reopened wound somewhere in her mind or her heart, a kind of a hole that was always there but was harder to ignore right now. And she was still going to. She grabbed her phone off her nightstand and got to checking her emails. Back to work. No one minded that she was going to stay in bed for that, right? It was going to be her one last sliver of immaturity. And maybe a need for comfort, too.

[ooc: NFB, but open for calls and texts and visits and anyone who might have stayed over idk I'm too lazy to check in with people.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Mm."

Wasn't much of a revelation, but it was still nice to hear. Especially with the feeling of a hole in her chest. She sighed again, burying her face against the crook of his neck.

"Would you like to hear a story?"

A random offer, but it had a point. It was a true story, for one.

"Sure," Jim answered with a nod. "Go ahead."

"So, once upon a time..."

That was how stories started. Even when it was just a distancing technique.

"There was a girl. A young girl, living in suburbia, in a house with a big backyard and a big tree out front and everything. But the girl was a quiet one, polite and sensible. Except when she was with her best friend in the whole world..."

If he hadn't already figured out that this was going to be about her, he was slow.

Jim wasn't slow. He'd picked up on the story being about her and he nodded.

"Guessing that's the Todd guy you mentioned," he chimed in.

"Yes, it was a boy and his name was Todd." Still keeping that distance up. "And the girl and the boy were the very best of friends. They had adventures, their love was as pure as pure can be, and they thought they'd be together forever."

It was so easy to believe in forever when you were a kid.

"But one fateful day, when they were eleven, the boy moved away. And the girl was alone."

Jim listened quietly, nodding every once in awhile when it seemed like a good point to do so.

"Sorry to hear that," he said, quiet.

"And no one lived happily ever after," she sighed. "The end."

It was a pretty depressing story.

"...why'd you tell me that story?" Jim asked, curious. It was some additional background on her, sure, but it was depressing and he wasn't sure of the point.

"Because it's why I'm not okay right now."

Or maybe it had just been a moment's weakness. Some need to get that out there.

"You're not alone, though."

He was there. And he knew she had friends, family.

"It's a little more complicated than that."

Wasn't it always?

"Why's that?" Jim asked. "You still feel alone?"

"Not entirely." She held onto him a little tighter. Like she'd said, it was complicated. There weren't words for some things. "I just remember things more sharply right now."

"Okay."

Jim still wasn't good at this but he didn't think pressing her further would really help. So, he just accepted what she'd said and held her tighter against him.

That was the best thing to do. See, he was learning something about this comfort thing! Natalie kept leaning against him. She didn't need or want to talk about it any further, lest she get into topics like how all the Todd stuff played into why she'd sent a birthday gift to her ex last week.

She just wanted to be held. And he was there to do that. So, she was good.

Natalie's Apartment, Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, Monday

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject