Envy Adams (
whenshewasnice) wrote2013-10-08 10:09 pm
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Natalie's Apartment, Port-au-Prince, Haiti, Tuesday Evening
Natalie had a busy day. Quelle surprise. There'd been a package waiting for her when she'd gotten back to her apartment from various appointments and meetings and things. She hadn't had time to check it out immediately. Emails had taken precedence, and as she'd hoped a package like that was likely to be something nice, she'd been fine to wait to open it.
But by now, she had. And the first thing she realized was that it was a care package, from her parents. She hand't thought she'd exhibited any glaring signs of homesickness in talking to them a couple of days ago, but... Guess they knew. Inside were a few general things they knew she couldn't get where she was, and those were nice, but they weren't what drew her attention.
That honour went to a stack of postcards.
They were old, a little worn out at the edges, a little less the exact colour they'd been when they'd been new. They were those touristy postcards, from various Canadian cities (and a few from abroad), sent by her parents to her from their various individual work-related travels over the years. Neither of her parents had ever been away from home for more than a few days, and they'd always beat the postcards home. It had almost been a game.
She'd had the cards on her bedroom wall when she'd been younger. They didn't make her cry right now, honest. But she definitely went to put them on her bedroom wall. Again.
[ooc: NFB, but open for all the usual stuff, you already know this.]
But by now, she had. And the first thing she realized was that it was a care package, from her parents. She hand't thought she'd exhibited any glaring signs of homesickness in talking to them a couple of days ago, but... Guess they knew. Inside were a few general things they knew she couldn't get where she was, and those were nice, but they weren't what drew her attention.
That honour went to a stack of postcards.
They were old, a little worn out at the edges, a little less the exact colour they'd been when they'd been new. They were those touristy postcards, from various Canadian cities (and a few from abroad), sent by her parents to her from their various individual work-related travels over the years. Neither of her parents had ever been away from home for more than a few days, and they'd always beat the postcards home. It had almost been a game.
She'd had the cards on her bedroom wall when she'd been younger. They didn't make her cry right now, honest. But she definitely went to put them on her bedroom wall. Again.
[ooc: NFB, but open for all the usual stuff, you already know this.]
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It wasn't a detailed answer but it would answer the question. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong either.
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"Yeah."
So why the hell did that make something in her chest sink and squeeze uncomfortably? The feeling took her by surprise so much that she was glad he wasn't there with her because that meant he couldn't see how her face fell. Because it was ridiculous that it did.
She inhaled sharply, but didn't say anything else.
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Instead, she forced herself to put the juice on the counter so she could reach for a glass. Anything else would've been dumb and melodramatic.
"I really don't know."
Would've been nice to not sound upset but, apparently not.
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"I don't know. I wasn't expecting to feel this –– sad."
She sounded almost offended at the fact that she was feeling that.
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"You're not in love with me," he reminded her. "And you didn't want to date me. You made that clear. You told me our deal was off and made no mention of wanting me to just sleep with you. I don't get it."
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Not broken, but bruised, maybe.
Good practice for Todd, though.
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"Then, maybe we shouldn't hang out if I'm gonna make you this upset," Jim told her, not sure what else to do. "Because you don't want a deal and I don't really want one either at this point in time."
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"I think this moment proves I did want a deal." And had pretty spectacularly repressed the urge until, as usual, it came back to bite her in the ass and kick her in the shin for good measure. "Apparently. Didn't want to want it." For reasons he already knew. "But I guess that's too late now."
Something was forming in the air above her head. She hadn't noticed yet.
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Jim shook his head and made an unhappy sound. He almost apologized but didn't.
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Don't mind the sudden background noise, Jim. It was just the rain.
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And he was chalking the noise up to rain on her window or her doing something in the apartment or something.
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And this was so not the best of times.
"Yeah, it's not fair." She knew that. What she didn't know was why she was holding back tears when it was already literally raining on her face. "It's not fair either that by trying to keep you far enough from me that you wouldn't break my heart, I just did it for you. But here we are."
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He didn't sound too happy about that. He almost sounded angry.
"Look, I'm really kind of pissed off that you're putting all this on me right now, Natalie," he said honestly. "I don't want to be made to feel guilty when I did nothing wrong. I get that you're upset but I'm pissed and I think I need to go for awhile."
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But she also couldn't blame him for being angry. She was pretty angry at herself right now too.
"But I understand. Yeah, go."
The sooner she could bury herself back in her work and pretend this never happened, the better.
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And then turned said phone off. And put it in the drawer in the bedside table before getting up and leaving the room.
Destination: parts unknown.