iii. alone

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I wish I knew how to be happier.
F.S.

"I hate her!" Natasha shouts

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"I hate her!" Natasha shouts.

Her and Nathan have been dating for six weeks, and Natasha has begun to take liberty into coming over unannounced to vent her troubles at him. Today, like every other day, she is mad at her mom because she refused to let her go out on a school night with Nathan. Nathan kinda agrees with her mom, but he's beginning to learn that his girlfriend is more stubborn than he's willing to handle.

"She's so controlling, I mean, she's trying to keep us apart Nate!" Natasha takes his hand and stops in front of him.

"You don't hate her," he says, voice exasperated. He's never cared for this kind of teenage angst and he wasn't going to start feigning tolerance for it now either. "She's your mom." There's a note of envy he can't hide as he says the last word, one that Natasha is too absorbed to notice in the moment.

She rolls her eyes and drags a hand through her flaming locks. "Yeah yeah, I know, it's just—I'm seventeen, y'know? I'm not a baby anymore!" Nathan sighs, exasperatedly, and gently pulls his hand out of her grip.

"I don't want to cause any trouble between your mom and you," he takes a seat on his bed and plays with the record player until the gentle guitars of David Gilmour fill the room.

Natasha takes a seat on the floor, cross-legged, and rests her head onto her palm. Her eyes are bare from liner and the ice blue of her eyes feel piercing as she sits and observes him.

"What's the matter?" she finally asks, voice gentle.

He doesn't answer her, instead choosing to lie flat on his back, listening to the music. He feels a dip in the bed and a hand reach out to his own, but Nathan clumsily pulls his hand out of her grasp to lie it across his stomach.

Natasha makes a small note of frustration.

"Okay," she starts, "I know I haven't got clammy hands, and neither do you, so what's your deal?"

"My deal?" he echoes. He wants to tell her that he needs to be alone, at least for a little while, but he's afraid of hurting her feelings.

"Why don't you wanna hold my hand, Nathan?" Nathan sits up and drops his head onto his hands.

"I—I'm—"

"Spit it out," she interrupts, rather impatiently.

"Jesus!" Nathan finally exclaims. "Just leave me alone for a little while! I don't have to be holding your hand and making you feel better about your stupid fucking problems all the time, okay!"

She takes a deep, shuttering breath and stands in front of him for a moment. Her eyes are wide now, and are beginning to brim with tears. She wipes them away from her face for a moment before staring him in his eyes for a hard second.

"Fine," she says, her voice flat.

And just like that, he's alone.

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