#nelliot

tbh i’m not sure i even know a lot of people (or anybody in some cases) who ships these things, but i’ll do my best here!

“does anyone?” natalie rolled her eyes, though the words were already running through her mind at a million miles a second. he always met her deflective jokes with a earnest stillness that shook her to her core, even if he laughed nervously only a few seconds later. this time, though, the still lasted a moment longer than natalie was comfortable with, and all of a sudden her mouth was motoring without her mind’s permission. this was elliot’s most notable effect on her lately, and she really didn’t fucking like it. 

“i just mean, when people tell other people they’re beautiful, it usually doesn’t mean anything, right? it just, like, it’s a nice sentiment, but you know how you look, and if you don’t feel great that day, you’re just not gonna believe them. so typically, i just say thanks and move on, regardless of whether or not i believe it. because really, it doesn’t matter if i do or not, right? but, i don’t know, i think i’m alright usually, so it’s fine. but when you say it, it sounds so important. so, like...real. and your taste in beautiful things is generally really good, even if i don’t like, understand what some of them mean. sometimes it’s like, i don’t know, you make me feel beautiful even when i know for a fact i’m only having a fairly passable day, looks-wise.”

-------- things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

“Why are you always, like, sitting next to him?”

Because being around him is like drinking too much coffee, but never being more comfortable than in that caffeine buzz. Because every moment is precious and terrifying and addictive, and every brush of skin is like an electric shock and being wrapped in the softest, warmest blanket on a cool night all in one. Because she truly couldn’t get enough of him-- everything about him.

“Because you smell bad,” Natalie answered Carson, not even bothering to actually throw a glance his way. He was too busy shooting zombies to care, and she didn’t do too well with eye contact anyway, especially if her cheeks were as red as they felt.

“We use the same soap! Besides, I think he likes you.”

She thought she liked him, too. Every time she thought about him, the warning sirens that usually went off were silenced by thoughts of his soft smile or his quiet voice, the way he looked at her-- the way he looked at everything. The way that sometimes he seemed sad, but he always looked beautiful. The way that she wanted to make him happy, even though she had absolutely no idea how. The way she was scared shitless of just how much she noticed him, when she usually made a point not to notice anything at all.

The smile that crept onto Natalie’s lips was immediately replaced by a sinking feeling, followed by a panic. If Carson had noticed, so had Elliot. But Carson knowing was far worse than Elliot, especially since there was no way Carson wouldn’t shut everything down the second it was confirmed. She had to throw him off the trail, so she spoke in her best usual Natalie way-- calm, cool, and totally apathetic.

“Well that would be weird. He’s like, a million years old, is back living in his childhood home, and likes poetry. Honestly, Car, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a homo. Sure talks like one.”

Carson’s low laugh should have sent a wave of relief through her, knowing that she’d successfully shut down his suspicion, but as it happened, her eye caught the reflection of distinct poofy curls in the television and her stomach dropped to the center of the earth. She didn’t know how long he’d been there, but there was absolutely no way he hadn’t heard. It took everything she had not to whip around and assure him that she didn’t mean it, but the outline turned and headed back upstairs as quickly as she’d noticed. 

She had never felt worse in her life.

-------- things you said at 1 am

“Can you say it again?” her voice was soft, still entranced by his and the words he spoke. It had been at least thirty seconds since he’d ended his poem, and what felt like hours of sitting comfortably on the swinging bench, Natalie’s head resting on his outstretched arm, staring up at the chain that held it up from the porch ceiling. There was still a few inches separating their bodies in case anyone were to actually come out here and find them, but she’d never felt closer to him.

“Or another one, maybe?” her eyes slid shut, her mind consisting of him and him only. “Poetry has always seemed stupid, ‘til you came along. So have a lot of things, I guess.”

“Like what?” there was the smallest hint of a smile in his voice, and it was the lack of seriousness that didn’t send Natalie’s walls up. It was the comfort of the night that had disintegrated her filter, that let her next words fall from her mouth with ease.

“Books, this town, looking at stars, Ed Sheeran, life, hope, love,” Natalie let out the smallest chuckle. “You could recite a calculus problem and maybe I wouldn’t get it, but I’d love it. I’d see the beauty in it if you did. Everything sounds worth it when it comes from your mouth. Everything makes sense. You...you open my eyes to all the things I didn’t understand before. You’re the key, or something. I didn’t even know I needed one.”

omg bless you pAL ok

nelliot

"I don't come here for him anymore," Natalie said out loud, meant more for herself as a realization. It was true, she'd stopped coming to the Cole residence looking for Carson, and started looking for Elliot. In fact, Elliot drove a lot of her motivation these days. "I mean, I stopped a while ago, I guess. I don't know when, exactly, but..." she trailed off, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't think I've ever wanted to hang out with anyone as much or as long as I want to hang out with you." Natalie's blue eyes followed a bird flying across the sky, forgetting for a moment that she was on the deck with Elliot, and that he could hear every word. When she spoke again, her voice went back to it's usual regular tone, instead of the dreamy, distracted one of earlier. "Whenever Carson gets his head out of his ass and figures this out, I think we might have a problem on our hands."

"Elliot?" Natalie’s brows furrowed, realizing that Elliot’s eyes were no longer open, and his breathing had gotten slow and steady. His head had been resting on her thigh while she went on and on about things he probably didn’t actually care about, but he did a good job of pretending he did (until he fell asleep, that is). That, or he actually did care, which was something beyond Natalie’s comprehension. Either way, she glanced down with her bottom lip between her teeth, torn on what to do.

On one hand, their position wasn’t the most innocent— although it could be much, much worse. Elliot had assured her that the moment he heard footsteps down the stairs, he’d bolt up and sit upright, a good and friendly few inches from Natalie. It was a mutual understanding that they couldn’t risk anyone finding them in such a position, especially not Carson. But now that he was decidedly not quite aware of any noise anymore, it would be up to Natalie to either push him off or come up with an explanation, neither of which she felt like doing.

"Hey," she hissed, glancing nervously to the entrance of the living room, though she hadn’t heard anyone. He didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow, and she let out a sigh. 

On the other hand…it was pretty late. Natalie was pretty sure everyone in the Cole household was fast asleep, or getting there. Natalie herself probably should have started heading home an hour ago, but they had gotten lost in conversation and neither of them made even the slightest effort to stop for the evening. She’d never quite understood the appeal of just…talking to someone you were attracted to for a long period of time. Wouldn’t you run out of things to say? Not with Elliot. He listened until she had nothing else to say, and then had the perfect response that sent her on a another tangent. It was effortless; perfect, even. 

He was kind of perfect.

And then, there he was. Natalie took the opportunity to look at him like she never let herself before, for fear she’d look like a freak for staring at him. She watched as the air from his nose rustled the neck of his shirt ever so slightly, then studied the curve of his lips, his nose, his long, light eyelashes, and finally the soft wave through his hair. Before she could stop herself, she ran her hand through it, something she’d pondered several times since she’d first noticed it, the second or third time she’d spoken to him. It was soft, and a small smile formed on Natalie’s lips, but all too soon Elliot’s eyes fluttered open and she pulled her hand away.

"Sorry…" he mumbled sleepily, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes before looking up at her with an expression that was a mix of fondness, shyness, and confusion. "What were you doing?"