So I'm back with more angst *sigh*. This is a one-shot though (or more like drabble) that I've been turning over in my head for weeks, just didn't have a clear direction for.
This pairing is one of my favorites in the 39 Clue's world, and I'm always happy to write about them. Please let me know what you think, and if you think I should do one from his point of view.
She noticed...
She noticed that he seemed to always be optimistic, even with threats of death looming around them.
It wasn't fair how unaffected he was by everything. It was as if he didn't even care. And she hated that, was jealous even, of how he could be so happy.
~Flashback~
"Come on, stop being such a stick-in-the-mud. This will be fun!"
She shot a disdainful look in his direction, annoyed at how he was almost bouncing in his seat.
"I don't do anything athletic. Besides, there are other things to worry about right now. Ian and I are here to work."
"You sound like Amy. Both of you need to stop being so negative. There's nothing more we can do at this point, so we might as well make good use of our free time."
He had a point, but she still turned him down. And then her heart clenched twenty minutes later, as she watched him play soccer outside with some of his female school friends.
She stood there, concealed behind the curtains, and told herself it wasn't jealousy.
She noticed...
She noticed his hair, and how it was always falling in his eyes.
It drove her crazy, in numerous ways. Part of her wanted to chop it off, or at the least, inform him that he needed to invest some of his wealth in a comb. But most of her wanted to reach out and touch it, to see if it was really the texture she always imagined it to be. She wanted to brush it away from his forehead so that she could see his eyes - always bright with excitement - staring back into hers.
~Flashback~
"-I'm tired, and I want to go home, and-" she whirled slightly to her right, away from her brother to address the other male in the room -"could you please do something about your hair?!"
The boy lounging on the couch blinked up at her in surprise. "What's got you in such a bad mood? And I like my hair. What's that got to do with anything?"
Gritting her teeth, she turned back to her brother, but finished in a quieter voice, "I'll be in my room if anyone needs me."
As she left - feeling eyes trailing her movement the entire way - she berated herself for even addressing him, or for bringing his hair into it.
'It's not about that, it's you! You're driving me mad, your presence alone,' she wanted to turn around and scream at him.
But she kept walking, needing to immerse herself into something else.
Anything, to divert her attention away from the fact that she was falling for him.
She noticed…
She noticed his character.
This had to be the most maddening thing - that he always had to be so good.
When she was sharp, even mean towards him (which was quite often), he always seemed to brush it off. And then, hours later, just as she felt guilty enough to apologize, he would already be moving on, trying to rope her into another one of his plans, as if she hadn't acted horrible towards him.
~Flashback~
Cautiously, she stepped into his bedroom, directly following his 'come on in!' He looked up from the gadget he was staring at and flashed her a smile.
"Hey," he said, putting the gimmick away and hopping up out of the chair, "I was about to come find you. Check this out."
He motioned towards the object now on the desk, so she stepped over to it, pretending to be interested. He proceeded to rattle off what it was and what it did, but all she could think of was how close he was. If she wanted to, all she had to do was move an inch and she would be touching him. Her mouth went dry, and it wasn't until his tone turned impatient that she glanced over at him.
He seemed exasperated, but when she met his eyes, his expression turned concerned.
Quickly, she darted her gaze to the wall, not wanting to give anything away.
"Hey, are you okay?"
This is what she meant. Shouldn't he still be mad, mad enough to not care about her? Didn't he recall the words she had spat out at him merely hours ago?
"Nat?"
She forced her eyes back to him, though she chose to look at his forehead.
"I'm fine." Then, in a whisper that almost reverberated in the room, she said, "I'm sorry."
He probably thought she meant for being distracted while he was talking, but she was referring to everything.
There was a pause, then he said quietly, "It's okay, really."
Maybe he was more in tune with her than she had thought.
That was maddening too.
She noticed…
She noticed all of his flaws, yet she still liked him.
He was too happy-go-lucky and was pushy and annoying when he tried to make people do things his way. And he was childish at times, though she had to admit, not as often now as he had been in the past.
But everyone had flaws, and the thing was, in a way, his were endearing.
~Flashback~
"That's now how you're supposed to do it," she informed him, making sure her voice was extra snooty.
"But this is the way I do it, and it's a lot cooler," he insisted. "Come on, you can't knock it until you try it!"
She let out a long-suffering sigh, but caved, extending her right hand towards him.
With a grin, he took it, and she pretended that she wasn't affected by the simple touch.
"If this goes wrong, I'm suing."
"I'm not scared," he replied smugly, and she wondered if her attitude was perhaps rubbing off on him.
"I don't know how I let you talk me into these things," she muttered, almost to herself, but he heard her.
"It's because you love me."
She started at those words, but covered it up with a sharp laugh and an eye roll, all the while thinking, 'If only you knew.'
She noticed…
She noticed how he was always like sunshine, while she was always like the clouds which were a whisper away, threatening to put a damper on whatever brightness he emitted.
~Flashback~
"I hate it when you do that!" she finally snapped at him, lifting her fingers (which she had been drumming on the kitchen table) and clenching them into fists at her sides. "We're trying to have a serious discussion here about what step to take next! No one cares about your paintball gun collection."
His gaze was annoyed, but she could tell by the way he swiftly looked away that she had hurt his feelings.
Breathing out a sigh, she rubbed her hand over her forehead as guilt rushed through her. He was only trying to lighten the mood; she knew that. Why was she always opening her mouth and ruining it?
"Look, I-" she started, but tears pulled at the corner of her eyes and she had to halt. There was no way she was going to let him know that she was trying not to cry.
The stress had to be getting to her, she thought. Why else would she be feeling this emotional?
As the silence lingered and soon became awkward, Amy spoke up.
"Maybe we should all take a break. We can continue planning later."
"I think-" Ian started, but the other girl cut him off.
"Later, Ian. Now let's go watch that movie we were talking about."
Her brother - like a puppy - followed Amy out the door, and she finally lifted her head to look at the only remaining person in the room.
He still wasn't looking at her, but she could see how his jaw was clenched. It made her feel sick inside, like a monster.
Why did being around him always bring out her awful side? Why was she so mean to him?
She asked herself this, only she knew why.
"Look what?" his voice - low and laced with anger - broke into the stillness.
"I'm awful I know," she whispered, "I always am around you."
And then she froze, not able to believe that she had actually said something to indicate her feelings.
Before she knew it, she was out in the hallway, walking swiftly towards the front door while hugging herself tightly, as if that would take away the words that still hung over her.
'I always am around you.'
But he never followed, and, an hour later, all was back to normal. The four met at the table once more, completed the plans, and nothing else was said.
But he kept watching her, while she kept right on pretending.
She noticed everything, even that she was in love with him, though everything inside of her screamed not to.
